Home for the Harvest
by compass54
Summary: Montana, 1000 feet above the Missouri River, was the last photo shoot before my vacation. The Cullen family, expanding the brand of their high-end whiskey, hired me to photograph their harvest. They chose an unknown male model to add sex to the campaign, and I knew working with an amateur would be a challenge. I never knew their seductive country boy would have me begging for more.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 was my contest entry for the Control. Possess. Seduce. Contest. 2** **nd** **Place - Public Vote, Host Choice Award and Hottest Lemon.**

 **Pre-read by Ipsita and VampyreGirl86, and beta'd by SarcasticBimbo, we had some fun on this one. Patrizia was my advisor for all things photographic. Thank you so much for your help, beautifuls.**

 **Carrie and Nic and their amazing team ran a fantastic contest where the promotion was superb and tireless, so thank you for all your hard work. We appreciate everything you did so much.**

 **If you read, reviewed or voted, mwah!**

 **Disclaimer** : The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Home for the Harvest**

"How did it go?" Garrett follows me into my office. I drop my bag on my desk and fight off a wave of tears.

"I'm officially divorced, and I _am_ changing my name back to Swan."

"Oh, Bella." He looks genuinely sad for me, though I know he never liked Jake. "Did you get what you wanted?"

"Fifty...It was generous really. We hardly made a dent in the mortgage in two years. Let's not talk about Jake. Did they find our guy yet?"

"I believe they have," he answers with a grin.

My whole body sags in relief. We're supposed to leave for the shoot on Monday.

"Who is he?"

"An unknown. This is all we got." He hands me two photos as I sit in my chair, showing a man in jeans with his shirt open and a smooth muscular chest, lean and hard. The jeans look loose where they hang from his hips and there's no sign of Calvin Klein for a change. He's quite perfect actually, but I can't see his face.

"Okay, not bad. He certainly fits the description: fills out a pair of jeans like a boss. Why is he looking down? Do we have head shots?"

"No, he's not a professional model."

Touching my fingers to my forehead, I breathe through my disappointment. "The shoot will take days."

"Maybe not," Garrett coaxes with a conciliatory tone. "They say he's a natural. Take a closer look."

I hold the pictures up again. Yes, he's exactly the right type, but he's still an amateur.

"I really don't need this. I'm ready for a beach where people bring me drinks. I swear if I don't make my flight..."

"Bella, _you_ are the photographer they requested, so take the shots and grab the money. Then you can go on vacation." He hands me a CD and a bottle marked Masen's, "Play this with a glass of their whiskey and fall asleep to it." When I frown, he explains, "It's the sounds recorded in a field of barley at sunset. The insects will put you in the mood. All organic, remember?"

"How can I forget?" I respond, hearing the sarcasm in my voice.

The client is a boutique whiskey maker ready to expand, and they want a campaign of images showing the harvest of their proudly organic crop of barley. The man is there to make the brand look sexy.

That night I take Garrett's advice and play the recording. Instead of the insects annoying me, they lull me into a deep satisfying sleep, just what I needed to take my mind off the divorce.

* * *

Our lighting guy, Ben, made a convincing argument to drive to Montana. He was worried about damage, getting our gear on a plane in Seattle and then off at Great Falls Airport, the only place we could pick up a decent truck for the 150-mile drive to the remote property.

The journey takes over twelve hours, with three of us sharing the truck's bench seat. We check in to the only real hotel in town and rest up before dinner. By seven, we're having a drink at the bar and the boys want to eat. I haven't been great company for days really, so they don't argue when I tell them to go ahead without me. They know I don't find their jokes about me getting laid funny.

I'm finishing my glass of wine when there's a commotion outside and I see people standing and peering out the windows. With the sound of a big car engine roaring off, they sit down and everything returns to normal.

Spying a bottle of Masen's Whiskey in front of me, I remember I haven't tasted it yet.

"Can I please try the Masen's?" I ask the bartender and point to the bottle of their local whiskey. After the long day we've had, I won't bother with a meal. There are nuts in the mini-bar back at the room.

"I'll have the same." I don't acknowledge the deep velvety voice or react to the hint of familiar cologne.

 _Dior Homme - the gift Jake rejected. He screwed up his nose after one sniff of the bottle and said, "Why don't you offer it to Charlie. Sorry, but I wouldn't wear it."_

" _Not even on special occasions?" I asked, and he shrugged his shoulders. "Because it's Dior?"_

" _No," he answered honestly. "I just don't like it."_

 _It was the moment I knew I was getting out of the marriage. Jake would never try anything new, never be gracious enough to say yes just because it made me happy. He would ruin the vacation to Mexico._

This person standing beside me, who may or may not have been involved in the scuffle outside, thinks Dior Homme is good enough to wear to a bar in Nowheresville, Montana, on a Monday night. He's my kind of guy.

I sneak a sideways glance as the bartender pours a measure of whiskey into two glasses. Dior man is wearing a black suit, grunting and gently nursing his jaw as if he's in pain.

"What happened to you?" the bartender asks, handing the glasses over.

"Hit me."

"Who hit you?"

"Emmett. Can you give me an ice pack? Feels like he broke my jaw."

"Ah." The name "Emmett" seems to explain everything and Dior man snorts. "Every time you come home for the harvest," the bartender says, shaking his head.

This is nice and all, but I'm a paying customer here. "Could I have some ice in my whiskey, please?"

" _No_." Dior man puts his hand out to cover my glass and I look up at his face. Fiercely beautiful is what comes to mind to describe his stare. "You consume this just as it is."

With our eyes locked together, he dares me to go against his recommendation. I'd tell him to mind his own business, that I don't need him to tell me what to do, but I'm the stranger here and I don't know how things work. "Are you a whiskey connoisseur?"

"I know _this_ whiskey," he answers with an eye to the bartender, as if I wouldn't know they make the whiskey here. I'm used to his type: arrogant, handsome and cocky. He thinks he can do and say whatever he likes. I've met models just like him on too many photo shoots, so I can guess why the other man hit him. It usually involves a woman.

The bartender stands by with a tiny scoop of ice, waiting patiently, so I take a sip of the whiskey before I decide. It's smooth with a unique, subtle sweetness.

"Okay, that is incredible," I concede, genuinely impressed, and take another sip, moaning softly as it passes over my tongue.

I can feel Dior man's eyes lingering on me, so I look into the glass and study the liquid, the reason I'm here. Then I don't have to let on that he's making me uncomfortable.

"You're staying here tonight?" he questions, and the bartender wraps a scoop of ice in a towel, handing it over before moving away.

"I might be. Why, do you have an opinion about that, too?"

He chuckles to himself and then groans when he touches the ice pack gently to his jaw. Maybe he _is_ in real pain.

"Well you're obviously not driving and I'd know if you were from around here. You're lookin' for somethin'."

"Why do you say that?" I ask, intrigued to hear him sum me up.

In a movement that looks calculated for effect, he lowers the icepack. It channels my eyes to his jaw as he turns his body to face me. He looks me up and down while I wait for his answer.

"I'm lookin' for somethin', too," he finally replies. He knows he's gorgeous and he knows how to dazzle a woman with his smoldering green eyes. I wonder what else he knows, imagining myself flirting with him, practicing for my newly single future, knowing I have backup in the restaurant nearby.

"What's your room number?" he asks, leaving no question about his motives. I have to swallow the whiskey in my mouth before I spit it out. I nearly laugh at how naive I am, thinking that amusing banter would have led to a goodnight kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.

"You're so damn obvious," I answer, fighting a smile while trying to deflate his ego.

"When you're with me, you'll forget about him," he says, staring at my breasts.

"How do you know there's a _him_?"

"You removed your ring from your wedding finger."

The observation makes me look at my hand. The indentation is still there and I can't hide it.

"I just got divorced."

"Well, that's promising," he says with a smirk. Incredible. He assumes I'm agreeing to whatever he's asking. "I'm very good at rebound sex."

I snort, realizing I've never met anyone like him. "Really?"

"Why don't you try me?" The smoldering eyes capture my gaze, and a shiver races up my spine, shocking me with its intensity.

"I don't even know you…no."

"You sure?" He asks, raising his eyebrows as he leans on the bar, and then he looks me over again. "I bet those pants would fall straight to the ground for me."

Glancing around to see if anyone heard him, I notice this place has filled up since I sat down and I'm not liking the look of the all-male clientele. Feeling nervous and out of my depth, I suddenly want the safety of my room, so I finish the whiskey and get out a twenty from my purse.

"Don't," he whispers, frowning at me. "This is my tab. Have another drink."

"No, thank you," I reply quickly and leave the note on the bar. "I have a big day tomorrow. I should go."

"It's early. Have dinner with me."

Shaking my head, I can't look at what I'm turning down. He wants what men want but I'm not ready for this, lacking the confidence to enter the game at his superior level.

"I'll escort you then."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Yes, you are," he says as his eyes rake down the length of my body, and then dart around the room. "But these men? They're all here for the harvest, and they see how fine you are, too. I'm taking you to your door so you stay that way."

God, he's not going to give up. I have to come up with something fast. "Okay, but let me go to the bathroom first." When he nods, I make my escape.

The side door gives me access to the parking lot, and it's party central out here with groups of men drinking around pickup trucks and large all-terrain vehicles. When I hear wolf whistles, I increase my pace, but before I know it, there's a man to my left and one right behind me.

"Where did _you_ come from, darlin'?"

I ignore them, sidestepping and wishing I'd gone to Garrett and Ben. The room is not far but one man is so close, he sends me into a panic.

All of a sudden, he's yanked sideways.

"Fuck off! She's with me!" Dior man's velvet voice turns into something ferocious when he yells. "She's off limits, you understand?"

"You left her on her own," one of the men calls out from his perch on the hood of their truck, and Dior man looks like he's going to kill someone.

With his arm tightly around me, he says menacingly, "Stay away from my woman or I'll make sure you don't survive the week. I know every one of you assholes and if you want to work in this town again, you'll do as I say."

They stare at each other as clouds of testosterone float up in the air. Then his opponents back down and the man he pulled away declares their defeat. "I'll make sure everyone knows. I'm sorry, pretty lady. No harm done, okay?"

I glance at him nervously, still shaken but strangely excited by the aggression exploding from the man who saved me. He loosens his grip on my shoulders and combs his hand through his hair.

"See what I mean? You need my protection."

"You _were_ right. Thank you."

He lets me go, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walk.

"Oh…number 9," he offers when we reach the room.

"You know it?"

"I've stayed here once or twice. I'll come in and check the lock on your door."

"No you won't," I argue, pushing on his chest.

"Yes I will," he stands over me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

The combination of whiskey and Dior cologne almost overwhelms me, but I manage to take a step away, pulling out the old-fashioned key to open the door. "I'll wait out here."

I can hear him laughing as he quickly sweeps the room before testing the lock and coming out all smiles. "You're really something, you know that?"

"Why, because I still remember you propositioning me?"

Slowly shaking his head, he answers, "Beauty like yours doesn't show up around these parts too often and you _were_ sitting on your own drinking. Why did you leave like that?"

"I honestly wasn't trying to attract a man. You really should go."

He holds me up against him. "If you run from me, I have to chase."

"You're wasting your time."

He releases me against the wall, trapping me with his eyes and his hand above me. "You don't even know what you're missin.'"

Looking away is impossible. My eyes flutter from the heat of his body and his glorious scent.

"You ever begged for more?"

I don't even know what he's asking me. "Begged for more? I'm not sure."

"Well, if you're not sure, then you never have. I could make you beg for more."

I try to look sassy when I reply. "More what, exactly? Maybe you need to explain it better."

"Ever had your clit stroked softly for longer than you could bear and been desperate for release? That kind of more."

I suck in a breath, so out of my comfort zone I can't answer. My breathing is accelerating and he's not even touching me.

"Let me stay."

"No. We only just met."

"Kiss me," he growls, leaning in to take what he wants without my answer. My lips tingle in anticipation and my eyes start to close.

"Is everything okay, here?" Ben asks from a few yards away, looking shocked. Garrett is with him, a deep-etched frown on his forehead.

Dior man turns to face them threateningly. "Who are you?"

"They're my colleagues," I answer quickly before he starts something with them.

I see the sigh when he finally gives up. "Make sure she stays in her room. I'll see you tomorrow." Then he walks away, chuckling to himself.

"No you won't," I call after him, hoping I do see him tomorrow.

"Oh, yes I will," he calls back, looking out of place getting into an old Ford Mustang in his elegant suit, but his confident wave and cheeky smile entices me to wave back.

"Who _was_ that?" Garrett asks. Sadly, I realize I never found out his name, but I'm still smiling as I watch the car pull out on the road and speed off.

"I have no idea."

* * *

I wake half an hour before the alarm, feeling completely refreshed. The CD worked its magic again, lulling me to sleep when my brain refused to stop racing. Going over every minute of the short time I spent with my blatantly sexual and aggressive protector, I can't let go of him or images of me begging for more. He's been in my thoughts constantly since he left and I must clear my head because I have a client to satisfy today.

We're expected at the property at dawn and we allow plenty of time so I can capture the field before they start harvesting. The location is spectacular, edged by dramatic thousand-foot cliffs. Today is all about the crop, but I'm coming back before we leave to get the eroded banks carved by the Missouri River that make this place so special.

A few miles north of town we start to climb as the road winds its way up the dramatic escarpment, lit only by the lights of the truck. Out here, there's nothing but the deep pitch black of zero human habitation. We arrive at the top to a flat open plain, glowing in the lights of a combine harvester at the far end.

"Are we late?" I ask, and make Ben stop the truck. Jumping out, I choose a camera from my equipment box and pick out a matching lens. I take a series of shots, witnessing the moment the sky starts to lighten, revealing the softness of the vast field of barley. It's silent, as if the insects are sleeping, and the peace is an inspirational way to start the day, just before noise invades and everything changes. With more shots, I try to capture what I'm feeling.

"Good morning...Ms. Black?" A man comes over, confirming who I am.

"Yes, but please call me Bella," I answer, shaking his hand and introducing the others. "This is quite a field. It's so serene."

"Not for long. I'm Carlisle Cullen."

So this is the husband, the doctor. His wife is the Masen. "What time do you begin?" I shoot my chin toward the combine.

"When the tractors arrive. Shouldn't be long now."

"Is that my cherry picker?"

"Yes, it's ready if you want to get started. Bring the truck off the road and up to the house."

I walk with him while the boys go to the truck. There's nothing here that resembles a house and I can see to the horizon in every direction. I hope they don't live in one of the huge silos.

"House?"

With a soft chuckle, he answers, "It's ahead of us, _under_ the ground."

I'd love to see it. These wacky homes fascinate me, but I have to take the shots from up high to get the essence of the field before they cut it down. We stop and he directs them to turn in. Placing my case on the floor, I take the second camera body and attach my 150-600 lens, my most versatile piece of equipment. The other wide-angle lens will cover the expanse of the landscape.

Steadying myself on Garrett's shoulder, I step into the safety harness and sling the two cameras across my body. Ben tests the operation of the cherry picker and smiles when he's happy, hooking me in. Soon I'm rising up above the land like I'm flying.

"Perfect!" I call out to Ben. With my legs wide, I snap a few shots and check the screen. They're good, but the sky is becoming pink so fast that I don't have much time. I keep shooting until I'm satisfied, then turn the other way and see a wall of glass, reflecting the field and the sky. It's the front of the house, built more in the ground than under it, and I really do hope they invite me in to poke around. It's worth a few shots while I'm up here.

The combine still has its lights on, illuminating the crop. It's quite beautiful like this with its black cutters raised and ready, almost warrior-like. Three green tractor trucks come up the road and one immediately heads toward the combine. The lights go off and the sound of the engine starting up changes the peaceful setting into a place of industry.

"Here we go," someone calls out behind me. The driver lowers the rotating spikes to ground level and moves forward as the tractor skirts the edge of the field toward him. It turns around and follows in parallel to the huge combine that spits a continuous stream from a long exhaust pipe and drops it directly into the cart of the tractor.

Down the long edge of the field, a second tractor is in place to take over. They slow briefly for the changeover and then start again as the first tractor takes off to the silos at the opposite end. It reminds of me of worker bees buzzing around the queen that slowly moves along doing the important work.

I get some great shots from up here when the combine turns the corner and sweeps along in front of us, leaving a neat line of chaff in its wake. "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns N' Roses plays inside the cab and I like the choice. It somehow suits the occasion.

"Okay, Ben, you can lower me!" It occurs to me that I planned to shoot from inside the combine's cab and I wonder what time the model is turning up. I've been dreading this, but the client is always right and it's out of my control anyway, so I just have to get on with it.

Once I'm back on terra firma, we're introduced to the Cullen family: the mother Esme, their daughter Alice with her husband Jasper, and their two girls, Katie who's five, and Gemma, three.

Another man joins them, but he stands off on his own. He looks sick or hungover, or just generally unfriendly. He's not the model, because this man is huge, nothing like the photos we saw.

Just so I can plan what I'm doing, I ask, "Excuse me, what time is our model arriving?"

Carlisle points to the combine and answers, "That's him."

"He's going to be working on the harvest _and_ posing for photos?"

"Well…yes, he'll look more natural don't you think? That's our younger son, Edward. One of the family always takes the first cut of the crop. It's a privilege, a tradition around here. This is Emmett, our oldest son. Emmett had first cut last year, didn't you?"

Emmett acknowledges me with a weak smile as he answers his father. "No, Edward did."

The tension is obvious when Carlisle doesn't turn to his son, keeping his eyes on the field.

"You should try getting up a lot earlier, son," Carlisle responds, still looking forward. I'd love to raise my camera and record the body language in front of me.

"Ed! Ed!" One of the daughters squeals and runs to the field. I look up, interested to get a look at the man walking over. He's wearing a hat, t-shirt, jeans and boots. Now I see him in the flesh, he _is_ the right choice. I'd choose him. Women will eat up those hips and legs.

The little girl jumps up and down until he picks her up, talking to her and tickling her sweetly. I have to take a shot of this. At the precise moment I get them in sharp focus, he looks up at me. Squeezing the shutter release too hard, I take a burst of images as I realize the model, the owner's son, Edward Cullen, is no other than Dior man.

I watch him hand the child over to her mother and I grin when he continues over to me. He looks good enough to eat in this outfit. I'm aware my eyes are giving me away until I see the smug look, like he planned this surprise, relishing the upper hand. My gut told me he was playing a game last night and I almost fell for it. I was even fantasizing about him, hoping to see him tonight!

"Nice morning," he says, tipping his hat.

"Yes, it is a nice morning. How did you know who I was, Edward?"

"Oh, I know a lot of things, Isabella." He smiles and I try to ignore his mouth and perfect teeth.

"It's Bella, actually. How's your jaw? It doesn't look broken this morning." No one hit him. He used that as a pick up line to draw my attention.

"Dad looked at it last night. The ice and anti-inflammatories worked."

"You managed to shave okay. It's not painful?" I ask, putting my hand up to check for myself.

He stops me and frowns, moving my hand away. "What's wrong? You don't believe me?"

"I don't know what to believe. You came on pretty strong last night."

The frown turns into a smirk and a nod. He has no shame.

"I'm still waitin' for that kiss."

"Oh stop it. We have to work together! Can you try to be professional?"

"You are one beautiful woman."

"Give it up. I told you you were wasting your time."

"I heard what you said, but lady, your body said somethin' else." He takes a step closer and I can't argue back. I had given in to him. I would have slept with him!

"Oh, my God. Follow me, will you?" I stride over to the truck and he follows. Taking out my small case, I give him a tiny earpiece and microphone, putting mine on to demonstrate, then I hand him the battery and plug it in for him. I place mine in my pocket and he slips his down the front of his jeans, producing that damn cheeky smile. "Take that out of there!"

He opens the top button on his jeans and grabs hold of my wrist. "Take it out yourself." When I try to jerk my hand away, he holds on, suddenly serious. "Why am I miked?"

If I'm going to get this job done, I have to be the professional, so I try to keep my voice calm and steady. "I'm taking photos of you in the environment and I'll need to direct you. The machinery is loud, Edward."

He stares at me, fiercely beautiful again as he keeps hold of me. Instead of pulling away, I stand my ground and allow him to stop the tomfoolery. He grazes his thumb across my forearm and asks, "Have you ever been tied up?"

First, my mouth drops open and then I can't help snorting. He's impossible. I crack up and so does he.

"Okay, where do you want me?" he asks.

"Somewhere lower, looking up to the combine. Over there," I suggest.

He looks around and says, "Over here would be better."

"The light is better over there."

Looking directly into my eyes, he argues, "Well, the angle is better over here. Getting the angle right is...important." He winks and then walks away.

When I imagined working with an amateur, I never thought I'd have to assert my right as photographer to frame my shot, but I sigh and watch him decide the location for the photo. Reminding myself that the client is always right, I follow along.

As he starts to climb the hill, I ask him to look to his left and take a few shots of his back, _and ass if I'm being honest_ , and notice the light from here is softer. He races up and waves his arms to stop the combine as it comes around the corner.

"How's that?" he asks, clear in my earpiece.

"A little more forward."

"How much more?"

"About twenty yards."

He backs up and beckons the huge machine toward him. "More?"

"A little bit more." The combine creeps forward again and he holds his hands up to halt it.

"More?"

"No, that's fantastic. Bring a stalk of barley with you and come down the hill a few steps." As I get him in focus, I see the smirk. "Now what?"

"You didn't say how well behaved I was when you were askin' for more."

I can't believe him or the giggle that comes out of me. "You're incorrigible."

"Well, you started it."

"Started what?"

"Today. The first thing you did was poke fun at my achin' jaw. That was kinda cruel, don't you think?"

He starts to walk down the hill, so I stop him, picture framed and camera ready. "Uh uh, take your shirt off, Edward. Tuck it into the back of your jeans." Firing off a shot every few seconds, I watch as he removes the battery from the front of his jeans and flings it over his shoulder. "Drop the hat on the ground with the barley and look slightly to your right so I can't see the earpiece."

He does as I ask and I get a burst of shots as he lifts the t-shirt slowly, careful it doesn't tangle with the cord. I've got what I want but I can't stop shooting. He is just…so…unbelievably male.

"You can put your hat on now," I say with my voice catching in my throat.

I capture him leaning down to pick up the barley and the hat. I get him placing it on his head and pushing it into position. The pulse in my neck is suddenly so obvious; I have to exhale a steady stream of air to calm it down.

"Walk to me very slowly so I can keep you in focus."

Sweet Jesus, he _is_ a natural. The way he holds himself, the way he moves, his eyes penetrate the lens as if he's looking directly at me. "Home for the harvest" were the words the bartender used to describe him, so I wonder what he _does_ do for a living. He _should_ be a professional model because he could make a fortune.

As he gets closer and starts to fill the frame, the combine starts up and takes off again but I keep shooting until I feel the tug on the camera and his hand on the back of my neck.

"I want that kiss now and don't you say no to me." Of course, he doesn't wait. He kisses me once softly to test if I'll fight and then pulls me into his arms, his tongue commanding mine to do its bidding. There's no hint of Dior this morning. He has another scent I like even more. _Him_. I moan, half mad with desire, and knock off his hat as my hands clutch for his hair.

When we finally break away from each other, he pulls my hand down to adjust his straining erection.

"See what you do to me?"

I don't know how I'm expected to respond when he might be in pain it's so tight and constricted. "I'm sorry," I reply, still dazed from the kiss.

He laughs and pulls his t-shirt on, saying, "You are really somethin', Isabella."

"It's Bella."

"Okay, Bella." His glare worries me for a second before he picks his hat up. "Where do you want me next?"

"In the combine, I think." I look down at the camera and realize the ridiculous number of shots I've taken. "...but I need to get my other memory card first. I'm a little embarrassed at how many photos I just took of you. You know you're very seductive through the lens?"

"Well, maybe you'll let me see you through the lens later." He raises his eyebrows and I wonder what I'm letting myself in for. "With _your_ shirt off. Yeah, I'm likin' the sound of that."

Back at the truck, I'm all aflutter, trying to get my head back on the job. Scrolling through the last fifty images, I'm confident one of these will be the money shot. The camera loves this man and his piercing green eyes.

When I realize Garrett and Ben are standing next to me, I jump, worried they're going to ask me to show them what I've taken, when these all reveal my lust for our model.

"How are the photos turning out?" Garrett asks in anticipation.

"Good," I respond, hiding my nerves. "One memory card is already full. We're going into the combine next."

"Are we using the lights sometime today, Bella?" Ben asks with an edge of irritation in his voice.

"Of course, yes, later. I honestly haven't needed them when the morning sun has been so amazing."

Ben's wary of my answer so I switch both batteries and hand them over, requesting they charge them. It allows me to sneak the memory card into my pocket so they don't go snooping. I give them the case with the spare cameras and tell them to shoot whatever they see that looks interesting, and Garrett's face breaks out in a smile.

"Hey, Bella!" Edward calls out. He's already stopped the combine for us to get in.

"Gotta go," I say, squeezing Garrett's arm to encourage him before I take off. He's well trained, but he's shy with people he doesn't know, and I hope this laid-back shoot will help with his confidence.

The cab is bigger than expected, and I have a seat of my own. Edward's chair is large and comfortable with a steering wheel and a console of buttons and dials to his right. There's a screen mounted at eye level and he points out all the different settings. I only catch rotor and header speed, hydraulic pressure and something called tailings.

"Any questions?" he asks.

"Nope," I answer as if I fully understood every word, and he smiles, probably seeing right through me.

"You wanna start her up?" As I nod, he says, "Press that button."

The engine starts with a rough, constant hum, and the cab fills with the sound of banjos playing.

"Oh, God I hate bluegrass." He swivels around and plugs his phone into a speaker cable, pressing a couple of buttons. Then Edward's music fills the space, "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam, and I wonder if he's done it for my benefit.

"Are you playing a Seattle band for me?" When he smiles, I add, "Crank it up, Cullen."

We're not sitting as high as I pictured, more connected to the crop, and I get some fantastic shots, relaxing and enjoying myself. "Do you do this for a living?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. Then I add jokingly, "Do you have your own horse and a pickup truck?"

"No," he answers without expression. "A horse would eat the crop, Bella," he deadpans, squeezes my thigh and then chuckles. I break out laughing, astounded at my lack of knowledge of rural life.

When I finally stop, I realize he didn't answer my question. "So _do_ you do this for a living?"

He shakes his head and answers, "No, I'm a rural architect."

I've never heard anyone call himself that, but somehow it fits with the mystery surrounding this man. Unfortunately, another question would demonstrate I'm clueless, so I keep quiet.

The sun is high when we get out and another driver takes over. There's a smell of roasting meat in the air. Walking over to the house, the reflection is gone and I can see right through to the canyons. I look up at Edward, amazed that this is their underground house. It's breathtaking. He just smiles and opens the door for me to enter.

"Take those boots off, Edward!" Esme calls from the kitchen.

"There's nothing on 'em," he shouts back, holding them up to check.

"Get 'em off or stay outside."

He looks at me like he's biting his tongue, but we both go out to the chair provided, leaving our shoes alongside several other pairs.

"Where's my lunch, woman?" Edward asks, thundering into the house.

"I don't know. Ask your father," Esme retorts, diffusing him. It doesn't feel like there's anger between them, more like familial banter between two very similar personalities.

I wonder who wins between these two.

Edward's eyes light up and he asks, "The smoker?"

Esme's eyebrows lift, just like her son's do, and her eyes show him the way.

"Ribs," he says, licking his lips. He immediately goes out through the door and disappears to the left.

Esme turns to me and asks, "How are you goin', Bella? Are you gettin' what you want?"

Looking at the amazing scenery in front of me I answer, "This is such a beautiful place, it makes my job easy. This property is your family's?"

"I was born here but it was different in those days. We always grew barley, but not like this. My daddy and Jasper's grampa had a whiskey still so they needed the grain for the mash." With a grin, she adds, "They didn't have any luck growin' rye. We had a big ole ramblin' house in those days and we grew other things, just not very well."

"When did it all turn into this?" I ask, fascinated to hear more.

"Jasper's daddy, God rest his soul, showed them what they were wastin' and Jasper followed in his steps. He runs the family distillery. He pretty much runs this place now, too."

"And he married your daughter." I'm surprised how romantic I find this. It's adorable.

"Oh, they were sweethearts from the time they went to middle school. Never seen two people more in tune."

"I just got divorced," I say, feeling like a failure in comparison.

"I know. Edward told us, and I'm sorry to hear that. Emmett's marriage is crumblin' too. He's…" She stops as if it's too painful to go on.

"Does Emmett work here?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation in a less personal direction.

She thinks about her answer before replying, "No," and I decide not to ask any more questions. "Did you see him hit Edward last night?"

I just shake my head, wondering how much she knows about her son's nocturnal activities… _and me_.

"Edward only went down there to introduce himself and make sure you folks knew how to get up here."

 _Introduce himself?_

We're interrupted by the sound of laughter when Alice and the two girls come in.

"Can I help you, Mom?"

"No, I'm done. Your dad and Edward are out at the smoker." With that, the two girls open the door and call out "Ed!" turning in the direction he went in.

"How's it all going, Bella?" Alice asks.

"It's going very well, Alice. I've taken a few hundred shots already."

"When can we see them?" she asks excitedly, clasping her hands together.

"Let me organize them properly before I show you. A lot of them look the same. How about a little later today?"

She looks disappointed and somewhat worried if I'm reading her right.

"Trust me they're good, so don't worry. This place is a dream to shoot and so is your brother."

"I thought you might say something like that," she says, with a newly smug expression. "Edward was right to choose you."

 _Choose me?_

Just as I'm about to ask her to explain, the door opens and Carlisle comes in with a huge tray of steaming ribs. Edward is trying to put down his niece who is hanging onto his neck, resisting his attempts and whining.

"Come on, Gem. Give me a break." He kisses her, then lowers her feet to the ground and pries her arms from around him.

"Ribs," Katie exclaims proudly, as if she cooked them herself.

"Where's Jazz?" Edward enquires, cutting one of the ribs off and eating it. He winks at me and Esme slaps his arm. "Oh, they're so good."

Alice answers, "They're coming. He's with Ben and Garrett at the silos."

"And Em?" Edward asks, licking his fingers.

"Haven't seen him since daybreak," Alice replies, her eyes darting between her parents furtively.

"That was a great idea," Jasper says, slapping Garrett on his back as they come in. Garrett is carrying his camera and tripod.

"What was a great idea?" I ask, enjoying the happy expressions they're wearing.

"Time lapse photography. One frame every minute. We're going to use it on our website, showing the silos filling as a video."

I look at Garrett, hoping he's not giving away freebies when we can charge for these kinds of extras, but his face is so full of life that it will be worth it to boost his faith in himself.

"Can we eat, please? I didn't have breakfast," Edward pleads and suddenly the table is full of ribs, baked potatoes and salad. The way we all take our seats, it's obvious everyone is hungry and the smell of the ribs is amazing.

"We should have a group photo. It's not often we're here together," Esme requests. "Would you...?"

"Of course." I get up to grab my camera before Garrett interrupts me.

"You sit down, Bella. I'll look after this one," he offers, attaching his camera to the tripod and quickly finding the best position. "Ready in five seconds everyone. Say Masen's," he adds, racing to his seat, and the shot is taken, a little time capsule of one very happy day in Montana.

"Can we hold hands?" Carlisle asks, taking the hand of his wife and daughter from the head of the table. Edward offers me his with a reverent smile. "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful."

I hear the sound of the click over the amens at the table. I suspect Garrett still hasn't turned off the setting to take a frame every minute. He needs to take ownership for his mistake and he will hear it eventually. It's just that my ears are attuned to the sound.

Edward is still holding my hand under the table and I look at him, wondering what's going on in his mind as the plates pass us by.

"Beautiful," he whispers, and I can't help but smile at his compliment.

Emmett quietly appears and sits down, looking sullen and uninterested, but he thanks his parents for the meal before he starts.

When Garrett finally hears the camera, he moves it away without anyone knowing. I'm actually interested to see what the lens captured of this slightly complicated family dynamic.

Everything is bland to me during the shadowless middle of the day, so I sit in the back of Jasper's Toyota with my laptop for the trip to the distillery. I use the time to back everything up and see if the shots are as good as I believe.

The surprise is the burst I took when I first realized Dior man was Edward. He's looking right at me with a little girl in his arms who obviously adores him, and the barley is so close, glistening gold in the early morning sun. It's an exceptional photo with the combine in the background, one I didn't plan, but one I'll certainly take credit for.

It's their decision to choose whatever they want, but _this_ is my money shot. I'd buy anything this exquisite man was offering.

I skim over the aerial photos and the shots from the combine and tell them I'm happy with what I'm seeing, when I'm actually scrolling through images of a sexy cowboy on a hill. If I press forward repeatedly, it's like a porn movie watching him take his shirt off and I get stuck replaying the moment he took the camera and kissed me.

Edward opens the car door to help me out and I blush, embarrassed I've been ogling him in the back of the car, and he asks what's going on with me.

"You," I say provocatively. "I'm turned on by you." His eyes burn and he holds me against him, sliding me slowly down his body to the ground.

The visit to the distillery is slightly blurry. I take a ton of photos as Jasper guides me, but I'm staring at Edward every chance I get. We're supposed to be looking at barrels of maturing whiskey and I'm in a fantasy, fucking him, naked and hidden in the barley.

When we get back to the property, it's after four o'clock. I quickly stash the laptop in the truck because the cherry picker is ready for my final chance at the money shot. We're trying to capture Edward standing on a slight hill, looking down over the crop, but it's completely flat here. The sun is behind us so Ben has set up lights and reflectors to use its glow to illuminate this beautiful man's perfection. We're only going up fifteen feet, so we don't use the harness, but the straps around our waist are still hooked on.

I just need Edward's shoulders and face in the shot as he looks out over the diminishing field, asking him to look proud but sad at its loss. He's uncomfortable with the camera stuck in his face, so I talk to him to loosen him up.

He tells me what it was like growing up here, going away to college and never really returning. I'm enthralled hearing about his parents indulging him and allowing him to build an experimental home in the ground that worked and gave him the confidence to start his own business.

While he talks about insulation and maintaining comfortable inside temperatures, I raise the camera and capture his expression. He is proud, not of the magnificent crop grown here, but of what he's achieved. I also feel a sense of pride, of the images we've taken today.

The afternoon sun makes me feel dreamy and I don't need to rush anymore. I'm happy listening to this man.

Now he only comes home for the harvest. He tried Helena, the capital, as a base for a while, but he no longer has a permanent residence, choosing to live where his current project is.

I tell him I think I need to get out of Seattle.

"Women don't understand that I have to go away to work. If I design something, I want to see it built."

"I know how that feels. Jake and I argued every time I packed up to leave for a new shoot. He just never got it."

"Look, I can't blame my work. I know I'm a controlling asshole, but I get lonely, like the next guy."

"I think I'm attracted to controlling men. Jake tried to make me into a stay-at-home wife. He wanted kids more than he wanted me."

"I love kids."

"I just didn't want _his_ kids, and now I have to start again. I'm turning twenty-seven next month."

"I'm already twenty-nine."

We sigh in unison, watching the combine on its last rounds of the crop, and Ben calls out, "How are we doing? Are you nearly finished?"

Edward looks at me with a quizzical expression.

"I'd say we're just gettin' started."

I snort, and smile as I shake my head. "Yes, Ben, you can let us down now."

On the ground, I'm undoing Edward's strap when he reaches for my hips, pulling me closer. "There's somewhere special I'd like to take you."

"I promised Alice I'd show her the photos."

"Nevertheless, you're coming with me. Bring your camera." He grabs my hand and takes us in the direction of the silos.

Suddenly nervous, I remember him saying I owed him photos with my shirt off, and my heart starts to race.

 _What am I wearing? I don't usually pack lacy underwear for these trips. I have some slightly nicer stuff back at the hotel but…Oh God, I haven't been with a new man in years. What was I thinking, fantasizing about him, and letting him kiss me? Am I ready for this?_

I'm so out of my head, I haven't paid attention to where he's taking me. As we pass the silos, I look over my shoulder and it seems like we're a mile away. When I turn back, the view stops me in my tracks.

Yes, I did need the camera for this. Stretching north, as far as I can see, is the evidence of a mighty river's power to erode. The light pinpoints gray crevices, making them stand out against the formidable black outer rock and dark trees. The banks in shadow are cooler, calmer, lacking in contrast, but no less beautiful.

I don't have to say anything, I just have to raise my camera and take this in through the lens and into its memory, into _my_ memory, for I will probably never see something as majestic again at this perfect time of the day. From here, I can even see blue water, snaking around a bend.

Then Edward moves into the shot, right on the edge before it dips away. His hair is moving in a slight breeze, gold in the sun's soft light, and I capture him with the background of nature.

"One last request before we finish?" I ask, and he looks up, allowing me another perfect photo. "Take your shirt off for me…Please?"

"That will be two you owe me, Bella," he reminds me, kicking at the ground with his boot.

"I doubt you'll get a chance to collect a second time, Edward."

Suddenly, the idea of leaving this place makes me feel empty and I don't want this light to ever fade.

"Well, we'll see about that," he says, pulling his t-shirt off, just as a gust of wind snatches it from his fingertips and into the sky. He laughs and follows its flight with his eyes, while I take shot after shot. He's still watching when I finally lower the camera and see just how wonderful he is. He's been everything today, controlling and annoying, encouraging and complimentary, open and honest, all the things I didn't expect when I came here to work with an amateur. In many ways, he's made the shoot easy, one I will never forget.

Walking up to me and smiling, he lifts the strap of the camera and says, "My turn."

I back up a few steps. "I'm not taking my shirt off, Edward, so forget it."

"Don't get all worked up," he says, sliding his hand over my hip. "I'm takin' your photo." The look in his eyes tells me there's no point in arguing, so I give in.

"Okay, where do you want me?" I echo the same words he used this morning.

He hums as his eyes lower over me. "Now there's a question."

"Are you going to direct me?" I ask, feeling bold, cocking my eyebrow like he does.

He thinks about his answer and then points a finger, holding the camera to his eye.

"Here?" He moves his finger, indicating I should move to my left. "How about here?" I hold back a giggle when his thumb comes up.

"Can you set it on timer, like we did at lunch? I want one of the two of us, now." It's sweet, almost romantic, and I don't have the heart to tell him I hate having my photo taken. I take the camera and find a rocky outcrop that looks flat enough, and focus when he stands in position.

"Ready?" I ask, quickly joining him. He hugs me, pulling me into his side as the shutter clicks, leaving an awkward moment anticipating what's next.

His natural scent up close is overpowering and I can't help sliding my hand over his abs. Sighing, it feels so right to be in contact with his skin again. He tips up my chin to kiss me, and I allow the effect he has on me to takeover. When his hand slides around my neck, his kisses start to consume me. My hands find his hair as his mouth moves to my jaw, and I moan when he bites gently.

The wind drops suddenly and I hear the click of the camera, the same camera Garrett used at lunchtime. It wasn't his mistake after all. It's faulty.

 _A frame a minute. How long have we been making out?_ Suddenly, I can't do this here and allow a photographic record when Edward is innocent of what is happening.

"Edward, stop." I squirm and push on him. His eyes are glassy and he refuses to let go, but he doesn't force another kiss.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Why are you denying you want me?"

"I'm not," I answer, touching his cheek. "I do want you, but…the camera is recording us. There's something wrong with it."

When he hears the click, a smile spreads across his face. "I want to see."

As he strides to the camera, I chase after. "Stop it. We'll delete them."

Scrolling through, he looks up and smirks. "No we won't. I'm keeping these and we'll add more later. We're taking this camera with us," he demands, holding my hand and pulling me away.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere private."

I wait in the car while Edward sneaks into the house to get another t-shirt. He comes out with a bag, his wallet, keys and phone.

"You planning on staying over?" I ask.

"I like to be prepared," he answers with a grin, starting up the Mustang. "And, I've got a problem at the site. I may have to leave first thing in the morning, so I'll keep this in the car."

I feel sad that we're already discussing the end of our time here. I didn't expect to see him once the job was done, but I'm happy he's planning on spending the night with me.

As we drive past the house, Ben is packing the truck and we slow when he asks where we are going.

"Edward's taking me for a drive. We'll see you later." I wave and Edward puts his foot on the gas before he can ask any more questions. "It's so beautiful around here. Do you realize how lucky you are having this to come back to whenever you want?"

He nods and takes my hand. "I didn't thank you for making the day so enjoyable. You're easy to work with."

"In some ways, so are you." I smile and he narrows his eyes, but his expression soon turns into a smirk. "Your mother said it was you who chose me as the photographer."

"Yeah, based on the portfolio we saw on your website, I went to bat for you. Your photos don't look staged like the others we saw. I only saw optimism and respect for the subject, and that's what we needed."

"So why were you playing games last night? You knew who I was didn't you?"

"I went to the hotel, expecting to welcome two men and a woman to town, but I saw you on your own at the bar and got distracted. As I said, we don't see too many beautiful women around here and I _am_ a man. I didn't realize who you were until Ben and Garrett arrived."

So he _was_ intending to sleep with a complete stranger. So what. I'm nearly twenty-seven and the truth is, I may never meet someone I want to settle down with. I do need to join the game, find out how it works and master it if I'm going to have spectacular sex with spectacular men in spectacular situations. Years of neglect in that area have taught me how important it is.

It shouldn't be about who wins, or whose behavior is held to question. It's 2016, and an adult single woman should be able to decide who she sleeps with when she wants to. Last night, I let Dior man scare me because he was too expert at playing the game. Today, I want Edward to show me the rules.

He pulls into the parking lot of the hotel and asks, "Is this okay?"

I shake the hotel keys I brought with me. It was one thing fantasizing about fucking in the barley but another actually doing it. Barley looks soft but it's prickly to touch.

Edward comes around to open my door, and I take my camera, the only other thing I brought with me. Then his phone goes off with an incoming text. As he reads it, I see him getting angry.

I go ahead and enter the room, finding the bed made up and everything smelling fresh. I'm suddenly not sure what I should do because I expected him to lunge at me or throw me up against the wall as soon as I opened the door.

"You're nervous," he observes as he shuts the door behind him. I nod because there's no sense denying it. "Do you want me to have a shower?"

Leaning against him, I answer. "No. I like the way you smell."

"Why are you nervous? I'm not gonna hurt you."

"It's not that. I haven't been with anyone else in a long time."

He moves my hair over my shoulder and spreads his fingers out, sliding them down my back. It's lovely, like a massage.

"Did he satisfy you?"

I look away for a second, ashamed to answer. "No."

Edward frowns and asks me, "Does he know that?"

Nodding, I answer, "He does now."

"Well, that's really not fair. It's a man's job to satisfy his woman, but it's a woman's job to show him how."

"I know." I can't elaborate on my answer. It's just one of the many ways our marriage failed. We didn't talk about it, so it festered and manifested itself as something else.

"Do you like the way I kiss you?"

"Yes."

"You're being completely honest now?"

"Yes."

"Then we've started as it should be, with honesty. Set the camera up because I find it exciting, Bella. We trust each other that no one else ever sees the shots."

I find it exciting, too, but I don't know if I _can_ trust him. The images will stay in my camera and only I have the power to share them, so that gives me some comfort. His seeing them can't harm me.

"Okay." I stand and walk around the room, assessing the best angle for the shots. I wouldn't mind, but I'm sure Edward doesn't want his ass in every frame, so we drag a side table over. I set the camera to take a frame a minute with the maximum depth of field and hope for the best, wondering how will function this time.

"I want us to strip and not have to fumble with clothes," he states. "Just this one time."

That _is_ what this is after all - only one time. We like each other but we have to go back to our own lives tomorrow. We're single adults, making a decision based on mutual attraction and I find the request easy to accommodate.

Click.

I start with my shoes and my jeans. The t-shirt coming off leaves me in my underwear, and I stop to wait for him to catch up. He's not wearing any underwear. He's been bare under those damn jeans all day.

Click.

I stare at his beauty as I remove my bra and undies. I don't feel nervous anymore because I want him. I can't wait to feel every part of him against me and I want him inside me soon.

He doesn't react to my nudity; he merely observes it. I could be just another female form he's seen plenty of times but there's a reverence in his expression that surprises me.

"Lay down on your stomach and let me relax you."

I have nothing to compare this to. Marriage to someone who only invaded my personal space when he wanted intercourse, and watching the occasional porn movie, hasn't prepared me for sex with a man who prides himself on his ability to satisfy women.

Click.

The decision is easy. If it feels good, I'll do it. I know I'll learn something and tomorrow he'll be gone, so I lay down, pulling a pillow under my chest, getting really comfortable.

Click.

He moves my hair to one side and uses a hand to trace the contours of my back. Two fingers run down the side of my spine and up again, causing me to sigh and sink into the pillow.

"You have a fantastic body," he purrs.

Click.

Another pass takes his hand over the cheeks of my ass and I hear his breathing change. He spends more time down there, so I gather it's a favorite.

Click.

Then the weight of him on top of me is a surprise. Sliding his hands under me, he cups both breasts and kisses my back and shoulders. It felt good before but this is fantastic.

Click.

Lips move on my neck and along my jaw. I close my eyes and moan but I turn toward him, needing a connection, when those lips come close to mine.

"No," he says. "Not yet. Just enjoy it."

I whimper when he sucks just under my ear.

Click.

"You _are_ enjoying it, aren't you?"

"Yes," I answer without hesitation, turning my neck to give him more access.

"Does this arouse you?" he asks, squeezing both nipples.

"Yes."

"I'm gonna lick your pussy now."

"Oh God."

"Get up on your knees and face the wall."

Click.

I look at his erection and hear a soft chuckle as he slides in under me.

"Come down a little bit," he requests and I lower myself to his tongue.

Steadying myself with my hands on the wall, there's only one sensation in the world, his tongue licking me. I try not to move but it's a battle I'm losing.

"You taste good, woman."

Click.

His fingers lightly caress my lower back, my ass and my thighs, up and down, every so often squeezing my cheeks.

Click.

I feel wanton and very feminine. In my mind, he's doing this under a thin cotton dress I have bunched up around my waist. Maybe it's the feather light strokes he's using on me, but it's incredible. I'm going to cum if he keeps this up.

Click.

Just as I feel my legs start to shake, he slows down. "You love that don't you?" he asks, and I frantically nod my head. He moves out from under me, and tells me to stay where I am, returning with a knee on the bed, circling my waist with his hands, and licking my neck.

Click.

I lean back into him when his hands slide over my breasts. "Fuck, lie on your back for me," he commands.

I do as I'm told and stare at his cock, veiny and swollen, thinking he's going to fuck me, but he strokes himself and I wait, frustrated and panting, for what he plans next.

Click.

"Touch yourself, Bella. Show me. Educate me." I unconsciously make a humming sound and he senses my hesitation. "Does this revolt you?" he asks, glancing down at his hand on his cock.

"Not at all," I answer honestly.

"Then…" he shakes his head slightly, as if he understands it's better to give up and move on to something else.

"I've never done that before…not in front of a man."

His eyes bore into mine and then drift down my body. I think he's going to touch me, but he lies down and throws his leg over my thighs, shoving his cock against me. Groaning, he squeezes my breasts gently but kisses me hard, and the smell of pussy only reminds me what he was just doing with his tongue. It makes me moan and pull his hair.

Click.

His thumb attacks my nipple, joined by another finger, twisting and pulling. I'm so turned on, I'm ready to break the kiss and beg him to fuck me, when he removes my hand from his hair and slides it down with his, pushing my fingers onto my clit. I nearly tell him to stop controlling me when I hear the noise come out of him, growling into my mouth. It shudders down my throat as the sensation increases between my legs.

Click.

It's not until I feel his fingers inside me that I realize I'm masturbating. He moves them in and out, curling and searching for something, rubbing his thigh over mine.

Click.

My other knee has lifted without my knowledge. When I realize he's found what he was looking for, I can't even kiss him anymore. I'm just breathing through my mouth with my eyes closed.

He sucks on my nipple and then chuckles. "You're toes are curling, Isabella."

"I'm in fucking heaven," I cry out, as if he doesn't already know. "I'm gonna snap."

"And what about me?" he asks, slowing the movement of his fingers.

 _Don't stop now when I'm about to have an earth shattering orgasm!_

"Please," I beg, suffering from the lack of dual sensation. I had no idea it felt so good.

"What do you need?" he asks, maddeningly.

"Just a little more and I'll cum."

"Did you say more?"

"Yes!"

"And then we'll fuck?" He speeds up just enough to make me crazy, and I'm panting, trying to answer.

"We'll fuck all night if you want. Just give me this now."

With a broad smile, his fingers return to the perfect pace and increase the pressure inside me. He groans into my neck and sucks.

It feels like I'm cumming from several directions at once. His cock pushing into my leg is one of them, but the place he's rubbing inside me wins out. I explode again and again, even after I can't touch my clit anymore, even after he flips me over and replaces his fingers with his rock hard cock.

He cries out frantically as my spasms welcome him in and he clutches my breasts roughly as each powerful thrust pushes me further up the bed. Soon I have to put my hands on the wall to stop him driving me through it.

"Meet me," he growls in my ear but I don't understand what he wants. We couldn't be any closer. "Rock back against me. Meet me halfway."

I almost shriek when he touches my still super sensitive clit. Softly, so softly, he tames it into submission, adding his lips at my neck and a hand on my breasts to get me going again. I try to keep pace with him for a while, and when I start to fail, he grips my hips roughly, kissing me as he pounds. Another orgasm hits me and he follows, hugging me so tightly I wonder if he'll ever let go.

As soon as my breathing slows, I hear the click of the camera. It has been going the whole time. I just didn't hear it over my blood pounding, our loud breathing and cries. I can imagine what the images look like. Like fucking a superstar, most probably.

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" I ask and he laughs as he collapses on the bed. Leaning over him, all I want to do is kiss his cheek and thank him.

"Today's not over yet." Turning to me, he hitches my leg around him and snuggles into my neck. I feel cherished when he wraps me up in his arms.

I hated it when Jake fell asleep straight after sex but I'm the guilty one today. The early start, the long day, and the workout Edward gave me send me into a deep peaceful sleep. When I wake up, the sun is almost gone and I can see Edward's face, illuminated by the screen of the camera.

"What are the shots like? Did they come out?"

The grin that spreads over his face gives me my answer.

"Bella, the photos you took before are so brilliant. Wanna see?"

I'm really quite embarrassed seeing myself on the screen like this, but there's not one shot I'd delete. Even the ones where we're "moving" and not in sharp focus are hot. They make me want to get up from his lap and start all over again.

When I scroll further back, the images of us kissing have a certain sweetness about them. The camera didn't capture the passion I felt but they make us look like a couple in love.

Edward loves the photos of the cliffs. There's one shot on the cherry picker that could be the shot of the day but, from what I gather, the family makes group decisions when it comes to Masen's Whiskey.

"There are a few important photos here, Edward. We should show them to the others tonight or I fear Alice will kill me."

"True that," he says. "She can be cantankerous when she doesn't get her way."

I start to giggle and I have to work hard to stop. "What?" he asks innocently.

"You. I haven't heard anyone say cantankerous in my life. It's like you sometimes drop your G's and speak like your mom and other times you don't."

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he doesn't try to argue. "I think you might bring out the country boy in me."

"Well I like him a lot," I reply and kiss him softly on the lips.

It takes us a half hour to get back on the road. Edward understands my modesty in wanting to wash the smell of sex off us without appearing like we've had a shower, so we're dressed in the same clothes except for my undies.

Calling at the truck, I find it locked and I need the laptop to back these images up and hide some of them away. When we walk into the house, my stomach forms such a knot, I feel like I'm going to be sick. The laptop is plugged into the television and the whole family is looking at the images from the day's shoot.

They look happy and conversation is flowing, while I have to think fast before someone asks me to plug in the memory card from the camera I'm holding. With only two choices, I can delete the photos, or take the laptop away, because thumbnails of Edward and I flashing up on the family's TV screen is…too terrible to think about.

"Garrett?" I call to my assistant, trying to appear outwardly calm. "I need to see you outside."

He senses something's up and follows me. "They loooooove them, Bella. We were waiting on the final shots you took to narrow down their favorites."

"I want you to unplug the laptop and bring it out to the truck with the keys."

"Can we just…?"

"Immediately Garrett. You had no right to show them any images without my approval. I need my laptop right now, and I'll wait for you at the truck."

"Yes, Bella," he responds curtly, never having seen me like this before.

"And if you've got my cable in there and you don't bring it out, you're fired, understand?"

"Shit," he says under his breath as he heads inside. I don't care how he achieves his task, as long as he gets out here with what I want. It takes him approximately two minutes to return and open the truck. He takes out my laptop bag and changes the battery with the fully charged spare. Then he hands me the laptop with the cable on top and smiles.

"Good work." I should apologize since he's executed my request with such precision. "We'll talk about this after." When he waits for my next instruction, I yell, "Go!"

Ten minutes later, I glide in, the essence of calm and integrity, and greet my clients.

"I apologize for that but your photos are priceless and I must have them backed up as soon as I can." Edward is leaning on the kitchen bench, eating a slice of pizza from a box, and he smiles, offering me one. Shaking my head, I plug the laptop in, just as it was before, and ask, "Now where were you up to?"

Having survived the ordeal, I can now call on my technical knowledge to recommend what we can do during the editing process to enhance the mood of certain images. There are six shots in the final selection and any one of them would make an incredible image to market the brand. Edward is shirtless in three of them.

By ten o'clock, the Cullens are more than happy and there are hugs and kisses as we leave. I'm beyond disappointed and silent as we carefully negotiate the bends on the way down the hill. I stupidly thought Edward might come up with some reason to drive me home, but the end is an abrupt goodbye.

He has to go to work in the morning and I'm facing the long drive back to Seattle. We have each other's phone numbers now, but the reality is we probably won't see each other again. It's not like I can go back and re-shoot the harvest.

The state of the bed in the hotel room is a reminder of our one and only interlude and I flick on the television rather than plug the laptop in. I'll look at those photos when I don't feel like I might cry. I even think I hear the Mustang, and check through the curtain, but there's no sign of it.

A few minutes later, there's a knock at the door, and when I check who's out there, I almost jump out of my skin getting the door open. "What are you doing here?"

Edward's answer is simply, "I got this bottle of whiskey. You drink it neat, no ice."

"Get in here, you." I pull him inside and lock the door.

We forget about the whiskey. As soon as he starts kissing me, I hardly remember to breathe. When Edward doesn't have an agenda, he can be tender, like he's making love. He likes to be touched and caressed as much as I do, and in very similar ways. His preference is for fucking hard, but he likes it when I'm on top, too. His hips told me so.

These are the things going through my head as I'm draped over him while he traces patterns on my arm.

"Bella?" he asks with a croaky voice. "I want to see you again."

I'm already hating the idea of him leaving tomorrow, but dragging this part out will cause nothing but heartache. Running my hand over his chest, I don't look at him.

"You know that won't work."

"Why?"

"For starters, it's going to take me twelve hours to drive home tomorrow."

He sighs and hugs me a little tighter. After a few minutes, I feel myself drifting off.

It's dawn when I feel something tickle my face. Edward is sitting on the bed, touching my cheek with the back of his fingers. He's already dressed to go.

As soon as he sees my eyes are open, he says, "I want to see you again."

Touching his wrist, it kills me to see sadness in his beautiful eyes. "We both know it won't happen."

"If I say it will happen, then it _will_ happen."

I just sigh because I don't want to argue.

"Look, you travel, I travel. You're not that far away. There have to be times when we're near each other. Where are you working next?"

"I'm going to Mexico on Saturday," I answer, rubbing my eyes.

"I didn't know you did international work."

"I don't. I'm going on vacation."

"What?" The anger suddenly emanates from his body and now I'm wide awake. "Who are you going with?"

"I'm going on my own."

"To Mexico?" he yells, standing up.

"Yes!" I stand up naked in a show of defiance.

"You are not going there on your own," he threatens, lifting his bag.

"And who's going to stop me?"

" _I_ will," he answers with his hand on the doorknob.

Snatching the towel he dropped on the chair to cover me up, I chase him. "No you won't."

He turns to me with those smoldering eyes in my face and says, "Just watch me."

* * *

"Who does he think he is?" It's probably the tenth time I've said it today, and within the confines of the truck's bench seat, I know I should have more control of my temper, but that man has really gotten under my skin. I only have two people to take my frustration out on, and Ben and Garrett reach their limit by Spokane.

They say I need food. They don't remember seeing me eat anything much for two days.

So we're sitting at the outside tables at D. Lish's Hamburgers. Ben and Garrett both ordered some healthy chicken sandwiches on the menu, and I'm having the D. Lish's Double with bacon and fries. I don't know if we're eating outside because they're embarrassed by what I'm eating or what's coming out of my mouth.

"How is he going to stop me? Can he do that?" I ask, worried about what Edward intends to do.

"I don't think he means it, Bella, not literally," Ben says, thinking he's stating the obvious.

Garrett chimes in, "He was very nice. The whole family was."

"Edward Cullen?" I snort. "He doesn't have a nice bone in his body. Manipulative, controlling, possessive, infuriating maybe, but not nice."

I watch Ben's eyebrows rise, as if to say, "Watch out" to Garrett, who walks away to dump his trash.

He comes back and says, "You took some great photos, Bella."

"Yeah," I agree, tidying up the half-eaten food on my tray. "We did take so many great photos, and you two were a big help." Out of the hundreds of images, my favorite is still Edward kissing me with the Missouri River in the background. No one else will ever see it, but I'll have it forever.

I stand with my tray and announce I want to drive. After they look at each other, they agree without protest. At least it will take my mind of that beautiful, exasperating man.

* * *

It's not until I clear customs at Cancun Airport that I finally relax. When they pulled me aside to search my bag, I was sure they were going to find something. I imagined it was just his style to let me get this far and then have me detained.

Now I'm on the shuttle to Tulum, I can read the brochures I picked up at the airport. They show a paradise, every bit as good as the one I researched. I'm staying right on the beach, in the best bungalow, at the place with the best restaurant.

Jake said I was crazy when I proposed this second anniversary vacation, and now with the weight of Edward's threat lifted, I can savor the power of making my own choices and answering to no one. It's still a shame that Angela couldn't come in his place when the room was paid for, but I will eat glorious seafood, swim and walk on the powder white sand, when and if I feel like it.

Then there are the caves, the _cenotes_ or sinkholes made from limestone, with their eroded ceilings that allow the sky and the jungle in. The fresh water is supposed to be incredibly clear and I am going to learn to snorkel. I may even do a scuba dive course and take a cruise on a boat.

Ten days to do whatever I want!

The Mayan ruins overlooking the beach are just a bonus. That's where it looks like someone poured milk into the blue ocean, and it's only ten minutes from my hotel.

After an hour and a half, we drive into Tulum's town center, and my eyes feast on the colors of the stalls and souvenir shops in the street. Just being able to wander and browse at my own pace will be fantastic. Jake would have hindered that indulgence, wanting to find the bar and stay there. No, he and I would have hated taking vacations together. He never had an ounce of Edward's spontaneity.

It's funny now I'm here that I can look back fondly on the day of the harvest, and those days afterwards, when I thought every phone message, every email was going to spell a cancellation, some reason preventing me from leaving.

Edward never followed through on his threat. In fact, he has been completely silent, so it must have taken our separation for him to accept, like I did, that we had no future.

The shuttle drops me off right outside the hotel and I'm grinning from ear to ear as I look around the high thatched ceilings. I can see the restaurant on the beach and smell fragrant barbeque. I want to jump up and down and announce my freedom, my escape from a marriage that would have stifled me.

A man carries my bag not far to the most enchanting room, complete with huge bed and mosquito net. The beach is right in front of me and there are two big timber chairs on a deeply shaded patio where I will relax and enjoy this view of the sea.

I slip out of my sandals, longing for the feel of that white sand on my feet, and I notice someone floating on their back in the ocean. The sight feeds right into my soul. I should get my camera to record this. I'll pin the picture up on my board and call it happiness or some other word that's going to become part of me while I'm here.

Whoever is floating out there decides it's time to come in. The man, slim and athletic, makes a striking silhouette against the sparkling ocean. Maybe he's here for his sanity. He could even be single and rich. I watch him pick up his towel, and glance at me before walking further up the sand.

Taking a few more steps toward the water, I want to see how far he goes, but he's already disappeared into one of these tiny hotels, where the roofs of bungalows are the only thing seen above the vegetation. One of the reasons I chose Tulum was because there are no high-rise hotels here to ruin the natural beauty of the beach.

Sighing, I turn around and it feels like the wind is knocked out of me. The man standing on my patio is wearing board shorts and nothing else. By nothing else, I mean no shoes, no shirt and I can tell he's wearing nothing underneath. Edward smiles when he sees me checking him out.

"I said you weren't coming here on your own," he says as I walk up to him.

He's so cocky he pulled off the surprise that I grin right back at him. I can't be angry or annoyed, because he's here, sharing this with me.

And he's the one begging for more this time.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so this has been a very slow write since real life impacted me in the worst way, but I'm working on chapter 20 already, so here is the expansion of a one-shot that I could not let go. Hope you like vacations and romance and Mexico. That's all I can say for now.**

 **Thank you to Ipsita, Nic, Vampyregirl86 and SarcasticBimbo for all your help, keeping me on track and fixing my mistakes.**

 **Chapter 2**

"So you thought you'd just turn up?"

Edward's eyes roam across the horizon, and then he smirks when they rake over me. I shake my head at him being here. He's rougher than I remember, and the five o'clock shadow suits him, emphasizing the line of his jaw.

"Yeah, why not? I made some time. I thought you'd enjoy the surprise."

"I would never have guessed you'd come to Mexico. I thought you were going to prevent me from leaving the country."

"How would I do that? You have quite an imagination, Bella."

"And you have some set of balls arriving like this."

He raises his eyebrows and the smirk is now somewhere between adolescent and _he should know better_. "I told you I wanted to see you again."

I can't help but snort because he's so sure of himself, he draws out my defiant side. "Actually, you threatened me, Edward, and I didn't know what you meant. The nerves didn't stop until I boarded the bus in Cancun. You couldn't call me?"

He sighs and leans against a pole supporting the roof of my bungalow. "I was in the middle of a crisis on site, working my ass off to get here. I didn't want you alone in a place like this."

"A place like this? You know Tulum well, do you?"

He runs a casual hand through his hair. "I know men."

I don't know why I'm surprised he's already irritating me. He's the same man I met in Montana, after all. "What happens if I tell you I have a friend or lover joining me? Do you have a backup plan?"

"I know you came here on your own."

It dawns on me that I only said was I was going to Mexico, and there is just one person who could have given him the details of this hotel.

"Garrett…you charmed the information out of him, didn't you." He shrugs as if it should be obvious. "That's inappropriate, Edward."

The smirk once again spreads over his lips. "So, you admit I have charms."

I suck in a lungful of air to steady myself. "A minute ago, I thought it was charming you came all this way to see me, but now I'm angry. He's young, he's gay, he's awestruck by male beauty, and you…you…took advantage of him."

His face drops when he realizes I'm not sending him a compliment. Of course he's beautiful, but right now I could punch him.

"Garrett's on a warning as of this minute. I _should_ fire him."

"Don't do that, Bella! He's only looking out for you, and he likes us..." He points his finger back and forth between us. "...together."

 _This is so not right._

"He sees we're a much better match than you and your ex."

"That wouldn't be hard, since he hated Jake. Any man here would be better than…"

"Like that guy you were just ogling? He's married."

For a second, I consider denying it, but I no longer have to answer to anyone.

"How do you know that? He was swimming on his own."

"They have a baby with them."

I frown at him. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to check out my…opposition." He smiles as if he thinks he's funny.

"You sized up the men here to see if you have competition?"

"I don't want anyone else layin' claim to you."

 _God, he's a caveman, completely oblivious to how suffocating he is!_

With a sigh of frustration, I try to speak calmly. "Well, I don't want anyone telling me who I can ogle, and for your information, I didn't come here to find a man. I want to relax and float in the ocean, see the ruins and the caves, buy clothes I'll never wear back home, eat and drink whatever I want."

"We can do all that. There's a bar on the beach where the sound of shells tinkling in the breeze makes you want to stay forever. One of the stores has white sand on the floor. There's a private tour on Wednesday that takes in the caves and the..."

"Jesus, have you been listening? I don't want anyone managing me! This is _my_ vacation."

He blinks a couple of times as if he's unsure how to respond. He thinks his big surprise is clever but now I see it's all about him and his need to control. He can't just waltz in here on a whim and start running the show. No matter how gorgeous he is, I won't tolerate another man trying to rule me. Never again.

"Well…I guess I had better get moving, then. We're going to lunch."

"We?" I ask.

He comes down the steps without addressing my question, or even looking at me. "You have my number, Bella."

"Where are you staying?" I ask as he passes me on his way to the sand.

"Just up the beach."

He doesn't look back as he heads north, walking in the shallow water before picking up the pace, getting as far away from me as he can. I know I just put a dent in his ego, but he had every opportunity to call and schmooze me a little. He could have at least apologized for the way he carried on when he left me in Montana. There would have been no anxious wait in customs and I probably would have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him here, but...

 _Keep chanting it, Bella. Never again. Never again._

Pulling my ponytail from its band, I shake out my hair and climb the steps to my room, noticing the comfy-looking circular day bed on the deck. The breeze from the ocean is lovely and there are no clouds in the sky.

A swim seems like the perfect way to start my vacation. Unpacking my bag doesn't take long, and I only have three bikinis to choose from. Once my phone, cards, camera and passport are in the safe, I just need to drop off my room key and I'm ready. The hotel's beach towel is huge and soft, another nice luxury. This is going to be fabulous.

Dropping my towel on a sun lounge, I walk down to the water. It's surreal finally being here, taking in the true color of the Caribbean Sea and a beach that goes on forever.

With the tide so low, I have to wade out a long way before I can duck down in the pale blue ocean. It's cool and soothing but now there's no one around to enjoy it with. I blew the opportunity of having company when I offended the only person I know here.

 _Is everyone else having lunch or starting their siesta?_

Suddenly, I flinch when something brushes against my leg. It's probably just seaweed or a fish, but when it happens again, I start seeing shadows and I have to get out. Damn the overactive imagination Edward accused me of.

My feet are caked with sand as I approach my room, but I smile when I see the shallow metal bucket, half-full of water, that greets me at the foot of the stairs. As I hold onto the balustrade and dip my feet in, I notice there's a wooden-handled brush near the door, perfect for dusting off dry feet.

The hotel has already impressed me by providing a flashlight, candles and matches, an umbrella and insect repellant. Now they are doing an outstanding job of dealing with my hatred of sand in the room. To me, these thoughtful touches are more important than having a fancy mini coffee maker that never quite delivers, when there is a barista in our restaurant next door.

The shower is great, too, not at all like I thought a small eco resort would provide. There's enough pressure, if a little low on the heat, but I come out feeling refreshed.

Wearing the long, clingy dress I brought for its versatility, I head to the restaurant and find out they've stopped serving lunch. I'm kicking myself for not asking before I went for the swim. They kindly offer me a plate of fruit, which I take to the room and wonder where Edward is eating. He's probably in some restaurant, stuffed and refusing dessert as we speak.

Who is the we? He hasn't been here long, so he can't have made that many friends, or maybe he has. Now I don't know how I feel about someone else laying claim to _him._

My tiny bag is only big enough for a card and some cash. Draping the thin strap across my body, I carry my shoes on the walk up the beach.

The white powder is hot but soft underfoot. I make squeaky noises as my heels dig into the sand. Passing by hotels hidden in the vegetation, some show themselves only by umbrellas, beach chairs, and makeshift bars on the beach. The newer hotels, like mine, declare themselves proudly through their young gardens.

Families relax on lounges while children construct worlds in the sand. Parents stand around in groups with their ankles in the ocean, not really supervising their kids who are learning to socialize. A stray wave surprises everyone, and I smile, thinking the tide must have turned.

I'd love to find out who these people are and what made them choose Tulum for their vacation, but as a single woman, I'm more hesitant than usual, so I keep walking. There are aspects of being part of a couple that I miss, and I've come to terms with the fact that I'm different now.

Hearing a friendly sounding American voice, I search for its owner, and find a young woman ending a phone call. I walk up and smile, asking if she knows where I catch the bus to town. With a puzzled look, she says she's sorry she hasn't been there yet. Her male companion comes in from the water, and she doesn't ask for my name, so I excuse myself, saying I hope to see her again.

I can't help looking into restaurants or stop scanning the beach for any sign of Edward. When I hear the sound of shells clinking against each other, I imagine I've stumbled upon the bar he mentioned. Inside, I find a place of cool tranquility where the music is soft and the blackboard menu is sparse.

"Can I please order something to eat?" I ask the bartender.

"Sorry, food service resumes at five. Would you like a drink?"

I shrug, needing something more substantial than alcohol.

"Where should I go shopping at this time of the day?"

"Depends on what you're after," he answers, starting his dishwasher.

"Clothing to wear while I'm here."

"There are some good shops right here at the beach. Most don't take siesta and many are open until 9:00 pm." I smile and thank him for his help.

At this time of the day, it's quiet and conducive to finding things that appeal. The shop with the white sand floor is a shack called "Mr. Blackbird". Inside they have jewelry displayed on pieces of driftwood and beds of raw rice. Everything they sell is locally made and I'm soon purchasing a silky white cover-up to throw over my bikini.

Another boutique has dresses that transition from beach to eveningwear, and the sales assistant is so helpful, I buy two of them, picking out jewelry to match.

Not having to worry about money is wonderful. The fifty grand should hit my account soon and the invoice from the Masen's Whiskey shoot has already been paid.

When Esme Cullen called and raved over the photos, saying I had exceptional talent, I could have said it didn't take any exceptional talent to capture her son's beauty. I'd never met anyone the camera loved as much as Edward Cullen. Instead, I thanked her for the call, wishing them the best of luck with the campaign.

When I'm happy with my purchases, I have bags from three stores, including a new pair of sandals, and it's been lovely to shop without anyone hurrying me. Unfortunately, there'll be no one to show them off to—just the mirror in my room.

With a long exhale, I think of Edward again, wondering where he is and if I'll run into him. Knowing he's here somewhere makes me lonely, and highlights the fact that I'm still out of sync with this town. I need to be more aware of mealtimes and more proactive if I'm going to meet people, deciding my best option is to book a couple of tours. I'll speak to the man at the desk and then I'll be ready to join Tulum's schedule, on time for dinner.

That's when I see Edward's unique head of hair. He's facing away from me, sitting next to an open window of a restaurant. Seated across from him is a striking blonde woman, talking animatedly and smiling. I think she notices me, standing on the street staring at her, but it's only a quick look before she returns her attention to him.

She leans her head slightly and rubs his arm, nodding and listening intently to what he's saying. The way she comforts him makes me stumble, almost colliding with a girl on a bicycle. Apologizing, I hurry away.

In a lather of sweat, I ask for my key at the desk, flustered by my strong reaction to seeing him with someone else.

I feel ill. A week ago, he lured me into bed with a declaration of honesty, fully aware of my limited experience. The things I let him do to me, the wild passion I felt. Oh God, I actually begged…for more.

I'm just glad I've had time to get him out of my system. From now on, I will be more wary and trust my initial instincts.

My assistant, who put me in this position, answers my call on the second ring.

" _Bella! You made it in one piece! How is Meh-hee-co?"_

"You've been a naughty boy, Garrett."

" _Oooh, have I? Tell me more."_

"Just listen. You never give out personal details about me again. That asshole followed me here."

" _Are you talking about Edward? He's not an asshole!"_

"That's not for you to decide. You're on a warning now, and if it happens again, you're fired. Comprende?"

" _Are you speaking Spanish? 'Se entiende' is nicer."_

"Maybe I'll put it in writing."

" _No, I understand and I apologize, Bella, but he's sooo nice."_

"Goodbye, Garrett."

" _Adios!"_ He delivers the word in a shrill voice and I end the call. I know he won't do it again, and this is probably my fault. When I get back, I'll sit him down and explain how a quick phone call can avoid a lot of trouble.

A quick phone call…Why did Edward think it was okay to arrive here like this? It's time I stopped thinking about him.

I lie down on the bed and look up at the canopy of my mosquito net. It's so wide and indulgent; the ceiling fan is on the inside. With the remote control, I turn it on and feel the glorious breeze sweep over me, but I can't stay where I am, fearing I'll fall asleep and miss another meal.

Changing into one of my new dresses, I hit the desk to get the lowdown on the most popular tours but, of course, my choices are either already full or not operating on Sunday. The man finds me a spot on the cenote trip on Monday and I decide to visit the Tulum Ruins myself in the morning.

It's right on sunset as I sit at the bar, watching families entertain their children while they wait for their food. I'm having trouble deciding as I study the menu. If I could order a little bit of everything, I would.

A couple approaches me and introduce themselves. They've come all the way from Istanbul in Turkey, spending three days here on their honeymoon. He seems very sweet until he starts to annoy me, speaking on behalf of his wife, who's English I find perfectly acceptable. He asks if I'd like to join them but I decline, saying they don't want me crowding in on their romantic dinner.

An older man comes to the bar and I only glance at him before going back to the menu, taking a seat at a table once I decide to try the octopus. The restaurant has filled while I was chatting, and now I can't refuse the same man when he asks if he can share my table.

Over a delicious meal, I discover he's one of those people who goes on a little too long about one subject. He also keeps asking me questions about Tulum and Cancun when I've told him this is the first day of my first visit here. Finally giving up, he describes his work as a tax consultant, detailing the shrewd investments that paid for his vacation. When I tell him I'm sorry but I have to meet someone, he hands me a business card, saying it's always good to have a friend when it comes to tax time.

 _Right._

I'd like another drink but I can't stay at my own bar now, so I wander outside in search of somewhere else. There are crowds of people out here, drinking and relaxing on the beach. It looks pretty in the night, lit from hotels and bars.

I'm drawn into a bar and restaurant by their band. They create a wonderful sound with just a guitar, an instrument that looks like a cross between a giant guitar and a cello, bongos, and a drummer who plays every part of his kit, even the metal sides and bell attachments.

As I stand at the bar, I notice couples off to the side on a small dance floor. They're so well practiced and impressive, it's like watching a dancing competition. I can't help moving to the beat of the music, but I would die if one of those men asked me to dance, so I take my mojito to a chair on the sand where I can enjoy the band in peace.

That's when I see Edward walk in with _her_ , with her arm through his, and my first instinct is to hide. They approach the bar, obviously enjoying the music, and right behind them is… Fantastic. The brother. Mister sunshine and rainbows is here, too. Emmett Cullen's appearance spells the end of any further contact I'll have with Edward, who has everything he could want now—family to vacation with and a new girl who is all smiles for him.

When they point in the direction of where I'm sitting, my pulse starts to race and I know I won't handle the embarrassment, so I leave the drink and return to the safety of my room. I didn't sleep on the flight last night after the delay in San Francisco. We were late arriving in Cancun this morning where the men in uniform scared me half to death. My emotions have been all over the place since I found out Edward was here and… shit… I just need to sleep and start over tomorrow.

When someone whistles at me as I walk down the beach, I can't get back to the hotel fast enough. The nice man at the counter asks me if I'm okay when he hands me my key. At the door to my room, it takes me too long to get all the sand off my feet and I grumble to myself, questioning why I came here on my own. It's not until I've had a shower and encased myself in the cocoon of my huge mosquito net that I finally find rest. At least the bed is as good as it gets.

* * *

Sunday morning's dawn is quiet and cooler. A fog hangs in the air and I take my camera to capture the beach, enjoying the sound of birds and waves hitting the sand. It must have rained last night from the look of everything, not that I'd know since I lapsed into a coma. Now would be a perfect time for a swim, but I should have breakfast and leave for the ruins. They open at eight and I'm determined to be there before the crowds descend.

I order an omelet, which comes out stuffed with black beans, tomatoes, red onions, avocado and some sort of white crumbly cheese. When I realize how hot they are, I push the accompanying peppers to the side. However, it's delicious and filling and they bring me out a Buñuelo with my coffee, a little piece of cinnamon-coated-donut-heaven.

Taking an apple and two bottles of water for the trip, the hotel has given me a discount coupon for a bike rental place up the road. It's not far to walk, so I set off along the beach to take some more photos. It really is a glorious morning and I love the shadows cast at this time of the day.

That's when I see them… again… through the lens this time and I make sure I get the evidence I need. The woman splashes Edward in the face, and he doesn't see it coming, surprised and kind of pissed off. He charges at her and she screams as he picks her up and throws her in the air, landing her on her butt in the ocean. She comes at him and he races out of the water up the beach to a lounge, laughing as he grabs his keys and towel. He takes off into their hotel but she doesn't follow, merely shaking her head and smiling as she picks up her towel.

Dropping the camera from my eyes, I wonder what sort of woman she is to be so easy and carefree with him already. They're like the best of friends, rather than a brand new couple who've just hooked up. The Edward I know wouldn't waste any time getting a woman into bed, so she'll be feeling dreamy and satisfied after _that_ experience.

I reach the bike rental place and I'm shaking. Then the ride to the ruins is frustrating, having to dodge people crossing the road, and stopping several times to tend to a wobbly seat. I nearly fall off the damn bike when a man decides to step out in front of me. Having done this exact thing to someone yesterday, I can't be too angry, especially when I see the cars turning into the parking lot and realize I can take the bike in closer to the entrance.

Unfortunately, the line to enter the ruins is getting longer by the second.

All I wanted was to get a few shots without throngs of tourists in the way and I've missed that mark, too. It's like Tulum has got it in for me.

With my hat and sunglasses on, I join the line, waiting to see how many people turn up. A coach pulls in and empties itself of its wonder-struck passengers, and they usher them straight through. Someone at the front calls to her friends to say there's a half-hour wait for the guided tour. They join her and start insulting the poor person selling tickets.

Then a woman aggressively calls out, "How long does it take to make up your mind?" The man in front of me turns around and rolls his eyes.

"It's not our fault, lady," one of them screeches back, making the situation tense.

When the next coach arrives, I know I've made another mistake. I didn't come to Mexico to stand in line and watch people argue. This day can still be salvaged, though, when it started out so beautifully. If I had taken that early swim, and stayed at the hotel to chill out, everything would have been perfect. At the moment, it feels like I'm trying to do everything the wrong way. I'll book a tour to do this another day.

On the ride back, I stop in at the Kore Tulum Retreat and pick up a brochure for their yoga classes. Returning the bike, I state the problem with the seat makes it dangerous and I demand a full refund. Something about me must say I mean business because they don't argue, giving me back my money.

With my composure returned, I stroll along the road to my hotel, checking out a few menus on the way, ready for a cup of coffee and another one of those delicious Buñuelos.

The sight of Edward, Emmett, and the woman having coffee in _my_ restaurant destroys my new feeling of contentment. Instead of striding in and telling Edward this is going too far, I decide to turn and walk away.

"Bella!" he yells, coming out to stop me. "I've given you a whole day and you haven't called. Are you still mad at me?"

With his pained expression, he actually looks sorry and I don't know what the hell is going on here. This could turn ugly if I say what's in my head right now. A swift kick to his balls might do the trick, though.

"Who is the woman with you, Edward?"

"That's Rose. Please come and join us." He's so excited, I could slap him.

Trying to keep my cool in a very strange situation, I ask, "Who is Rose?"

"She's my sister-in-law, Emmett's wife."

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks for all the reviews and to the TLS ladies for pimping this fic! You all make me very happy taking this up after such a long time.**_

 _ **Posting = Sunday night, Australia time, so while you're sleeping in the States.**_

 _ **Special thanks to the girls who inspire me and fix my mistakes - Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and Sarcastic Bimbo.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3**_

"Your sister-in-law?" My mouth gapes open while I replay each time I saw her with Edward.

"Yeah. Can I buy you a coffee?"

Looking into the restaurant, the woman has her arm draped over his brother's shoulder with her fingers in his hair. She says something close to his ear that makes him smile and kiss her.

"We came down to swim and have lunch, but they said you'd gone out." Edward's gentle smile settles me and I allow him to lead me toward his family.

Emmett Cullen stands and beams at me. "I don't think we were ever properly introduced. I'm Emmett and this is my wife, Rose. Great job on the pictures, by the way."

"Thanks." I'm side eyeing everyone, acutely aware that none of them knows how completely I misread the situation. Emmett's t-shirt with a bucking horse and rider and the words, "This Ain't My First Rodeo," makes me chuckle to myself.

Rose pushes her sunglasses up and sticks out her hand like any other everyday introduction. Her eyes are almost the same clear blue as Emmett's.

It's the weirdest thing having to re-evaluate someone like this.

"It's nice to meet you, Bella. Hopefully now Edward will give us some peace." Edward gives her a death stare, which she returns and then snorts. "What I meant was, we're hoping you'll come to Cancun with us tomorrow. We're going swimming with the whale sharks."

I've seen this in one of the brochures. It really does look like an amazing experience.

Edward motions for me to sit down, and I notice how elegant he looks in a simple polo and board shorts. "And we have reservations at Hartwood tonight."

Hartwood is one of the top restaurants in Tulum, on my list of things not to miss. I'm trying to recall where I saw its sign when I realize three faces are turned to me, expecting answers. I haven't responded to either invitation.

"I'd love to do both, but I've put my name down for a tour of the cenotes tomorrow."

"Have you paid already?" Rose asks.

"I don't know. They could have sent the charge through to my account by now."

"I can fix that," she offers, readying herself to find the desk.

"No, I'll do it. Please sit down, Rose." I have to hold back a huff. What is it with these Cullens?

As soon as they take my order for coffee, I leave the restaurant, hearing Rose say, "You're right. I like her already."

Using the same manner and voice that was successful at the bike rental place, I state I've changed my mind about the tour. To my relief, there's no problem at all. The hotel doesn't apply the charge until the tour group is finalized and he makes the call in front of me to cancel my spot.

Happily, I return and tell them I _will_ go to Cancun. Edward looks like he's celebrating a victory, and I am now looking forward to a day where I'll have company.

The waiter arrives with my coffee and Edward asks, "Is your phone switched off?"

I honestly haven't given my phone a thought since I spoke to Garrett. "I left it in the safe."

"You make it hard to find you, Bella." Rose comments. "We swung by last night, hoping you'd have dinner with us, and you'd already gone."

"I ate here and then went to 'Ziggy's' for a drink."

She looks puzzled. "That's where _we_ had dinner. We didn't see you there."

Her direct stare feels like she's sizing me up, checking my body language for signs that I'm lying.

"It was early. I was in bed by eight last night. The flight really took it out of me."

She sits back, satisfied with my answer, and Emmett groans. "I woke up at dawn this morning."

"And then went back to sleep," Rose adds, smiling at him.

I laugh. "I was up at dawn, too, taking shots of the fog on the beach. Then I made the mistake of going to the ruins early, hoping to get in before the crowds, but I wouldn't recommend it. The place was already crawling with tourists, and people get tense up there. Once they started yelling at each other, I left, quicker than the Maya did."

A frown appears on Emmett's face. He obviously doesn't get my stupid joke, and looks at Rose, who explains, "The Maya abandoned all their cities here, and nobody knows why."

Edward nudges me. "You'll have to come with us on Wednesday now. Remember I mentioned the private tour?"

I turn to him and almost say I don't _have_ to do anything when it would be a perfectly nice offer from anyone else. There's just something about him that makes me resist.

Suddenly, I notice his neck. "You're covered in bites. Are they from mosquitoes?"

After a sigh, he says, "I didn't spray myself before going to bed. When I woke up during the rain last night, they were in the room and I can't find where they are getting in."

I'm surprised by this because he and Rose were out front of a pretty swanky hotel this morning. I looked at "Be Tulum", but it was out of my price range. Of course, I can't admit I know where they are staying.

"Did you speak to the manager?"

"Yeah, he said no one else has complained so I must have been bitten before I came back."

If there were insects in the room, it's a deplorable response from an expensive hotel.

"Well, I have Benadryl and aloe vera gel if you need it." I nearly add that I'm sleeping in luxurious mosquito-free heaven, but manage to catch myself before he takes it as an invitation.

"Are we ready for a swim?" Rose asks. "We brought our towels."

I drain the last of my coffee and tell them to go ahead while I get a towel. When I emerge onto the sand, Rose and Emmett are already out in the water and Edward is waiting for me, stripped down to his board shorts. Immediately, I'm back in Montana, overwhelmed by the way he looks, remembering him through the lens and in my bed. I know the man standing in front of me in the most intimate ways, and yet I don't know him at all, nor his motives for coming here to surprise me.

All I can do is be friendly and accept they seem happy to have me tag along, just like anyone else I might meet here. If they propose something I don't want to do, I can always say no. With a new attitude in place, I take off my t-shirt and pull down my shorts, checking my bikini is covering what it's supposed to.

When I look up, Edward averts his eyes, quickly turning toward the ocean. "Wanna race me?"

"Sure, why not," I answer, with an unexpected laugh that continues until the water is deep enough to fall into. I _am_ enjoying having someone around.

Edward doesn't break the surface and flick water from his hair. He glides up through it, like a sea creature, smoothly moving his hands over his forehead and head. I'm not sure if it's the action itself or the way it draws my eyes to the emerging beard, but, sweet Jesus, Dior man belongs in an Armani commercial—Acqua di Gio—all chiseled jawline and water running down his chest. I must have watched that ad fifty times before Jake found me glued to "the making of".

"What?" Edward asks with a smile, as I realize he's caught me devouring him with my eyes.

The only thing I can come up with is, "Are the bites itchy?"

"Tryin' not to think about it. I'm not gonna scratch 'em and make it worse."

"Willpower," I say, dragging my eyes from his chest.

Idly splashing water on himself, he smirks. "Restraint is a better word. That's somethin' I can perfect."

I know he's baiting me, having seen the way I ogled him, and all of a sudden, I feel self-conscious in his presence.

"You gonna forgive me?" He takes a step forward and I instantly move back.

"Tell me why you didn't call me."

He turns his eyes to the horizon. "I'm not gonna lie. I went back to work with your words in my head." Then he looks at me. "You never even considered seeing me again, did you? In your mind, we were done."

"I was being realistic."

"Well I got to thinkin' you could be wrong."

"That still doesn't explain…"

"I thought you might say no. That's why I had to talk to Garrett."

"Would that have stopped you?"

With uncertainty in his eyes, he looks past me. "Probably not." I shake my head when I see the tiny smile forming on his lips. "Can we... start over, Bella?"

"What exactly would we be starting over, Edward? You want to be my architect friend from Montana?"

He looks down at the water, running his hands over the surface. "I don't think I can do the friend thing."

"Why not? You don't have female friends?"

He screws his face up slightly, as if he finds the idea distasteful. "I don't see how that works."

"So women are just sex objects to you."

"Did I treat you like that?"

"To start with, definitely."

He snorts. "Sure. A beautiful woman is drinking on her own in a hotel full of contract harvest workers. You don't realize the message that sends?"

"No... I don't think that way."

"You should give it a great deal of thought."

"For your information, I would never have slept with you if I thought I'd see you again. I don't have casual sex like that."

"Well I don't pack a bag to intentionally stay over for just casual sex."

The response surprises me. The memory of anticipating going home and never seeing him again is suddenly just as strong as it was then.

"Just say you're willing to get to know me better, that you'll consider a relationship."

"You are the first man I've…you know…since the divorce…since forever. This could be a rebound thing."

"That's not gonna happen. Anyway, it's not my fault where I fall in the scheme of things, is it?"

I shrug, feeling desolate all of a sudden. "There are too many things going against us, Edward. I could write a list."

"I'm flattered you've considered them. I'll make a list of ways to overcome them." He moves forward and places his hands on my hips.

I remove them but keep my position. "I'm not having sex with you."

With one eyebrow raised, he says, "Well I do love a challenge."

"I'm serious, Edward."

"So am I." With a smile, he dives under, coming up and swimming out to the deep water, leaving me wondering what I'm getting myself into. I cannot deny how I felt when I thought I'd lost him to another woman. With a sigh, I know I'm not ready for this kind of complication.

After a light lunch, we spend an idyllic afternoon, relaxing on shaded beds on the beach, quietly reading and dipping in the ocean. I get my camera to record my three companions. Edward is asleep, looking more delicious than anyone has a right to, when Rose invites me to go for a swim. She tells me she's been to Tulum before, explaining how much it's changed.

When we enter the water, she shoots straight from the hip. "I understand you weren't happy when Edward arrived here unannounced."

She may have witnessed us arguing in the ocean, but they were too far away to hear us. I look at the ocean, trying to come up with a diplomatic answer. "It's just the way he goes about things."

"Well don't be too hard on him."

When she doesn't expand, I ask about _her_. "Did you make this trip because Edward was coming here?"

She nods, easing into the water. "We don't see that much of him, and it was all a bit rushed, obviously, but we needed time away, something different. We're trying to fall pregnant."

"How long have you been married?"

"Six years. Wow... that time has flown." The wistful smile suggests they've been six happy years.

"How did you two meet?"

"I met Emmett through Edward, not that I knew him that well. We were in the same year at Montana State but he was an Architecture student and I was doing Chemistry, so we didn't hang out with the same crowd."

I would not have picked Rose doing Chemistry, but then I thought Edward worked on the family farm for a living.

"Anyway, I'd seen Emmett around the labs a few times. He was a couple of years older and studying Biochemistry. I asked Edward to introduce us at an end of year party and that was that. It took one drink for the argument to start and three dates to realize we were working toward a similar outcome. I was working on deterring insects and fungal type diseases with organic sprays that broke down in the environment. He was already convinced he could breed immunity into the plant itself, reducing the need for sprays, and he's achieved it, Bella. That field of barley they just harvested is as good as it gets. I have so much respect for my husband's work."

It's interesting how readily she praises her husband to someone she hardly knows. It makes me jealous when I struggle to find something good to say about Jake.

"You're lucky. I married the wrong guy. We just got divorced."

"It happens. I'm sorry, Bella."

"I'm not. I just wish I hadn't wasted my time on him."

"You were together a while?"

I nod. "We were friends for years before we married. This trip was planned for our second wedding anniversary."

She stares off somewhere, lost in her thoughts, and I know that look of finality. I felt it on my face when ending my marriage. It was a low point in my life, not wanting to fail, afraid of making the wrong decision, scrutinizing our behavior to find the cause and then ending it before we damaged each other further. I am slightly more objective now but what happened still causes me pain.

"I'm getting out," Rose announces with a smile, but I stay in the water, knowing there's much she hasn't told me, things I can't bring up. Although I see no evidence, Esme said their marriage was crumbling.

There was obvious tension in that family surrounding Emmett. Edward came into the hotel that first night, nursing his jaw after Emmett hit him outside, and the bartender didn't seem to think it was unusual. It makes me wonder if Emmett has been physically abusive to Rose, because six years is a long time to be married without children.

I really don't know what to think, but I understand how women stay in bad relationships when starting over seems insurmountable.

* * *

Edward is about to arrive when I see my bra showing at the sides of my new dress.

 _Why didn't I take more notice in the changing room?_

The dress falls so beautifully from its shoestring straps, and the three white zigzag lines really pop from the navy background, making it stand out without being too dressy. I love the cute little tassels around the hem, too, and my new sandals suit it perfectly. Now the damn bra cheapens the whole look. I only brought one strapless bra with me and my other new dress is currently sitting in a pile of laundry, so I have two choices: start again and pull something else together, or take off the bra.

 _It's casual here. Everyone goes braless so no one will notice. It will be so comfortable._

The knock at the door makes the decision for me. I whip off the bra, throw it quickly in a drawer, and go to the door, smiling at Edward's concern over the sand filling his loafers, knocking them together over the side of the deck. I show him the brush and he smiles, dusting the sand off his feet. "That's the problem with staying right on the beach. I hate sand inside."

"Me, too." When he hands me the brush, I admire the effortless way he fills out a soft white button down over black shorts. "Come in," I offer, enjoying the hint of Dior Homme in the air.

"This is nice," he comments, looking around the room and back at the view of the beach. He ducks his head in to look under the mosquito net and asks, "No air conditioning?"

"No, they don't have it here." He nods as if he approves while studying the soaring ceiling.

"Tulum is an interesting place. There are people here using traditional passive techniques to dissipate heat, something I'm interested in investigating."

"Shall we go? I'm hungry."

"Sure." He smirks, while his eyes roam all the way to my feet. "You look…nice, Bella."

I smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Ugh, this shirt is so new, I'm gonna glow in the dark."

"Don't be silly. You look clean." _And hot, and you smell like heaven._

It only takes a few minutes to reach their hotel and we go in through lush gardens that provide seclusion from the beach. They have a pool and a huge deck for drinks and informal eating. There's another bar down on the sand. It's very modern, completely different from where I'm staying, but it suits the environment. I guess this is the kind of place an architect would choose.

We go to Rose and Emmett's room and knock. Rose answers the door in a shapeless sand-colored dress and boy, does she rock it. Her hair, until now held severely back in a ponytail, falls to her shoulders. She almost blends in with the room behind her, its pale stone walls and timber floor making it appear cool and serene. It's actually cold in the air-conditioning and I shiver, rubbing my arms when I feel its effect on my nipples.

"Jesus, Rose, what temperature have you got this on?" Edward goes straight to the panel. "Sixty-five. Really? You ready Emmett?"

She scowls at him and Emmett emerges from their bathroom, holding his hands out and spinning around. He's wearing…I believe he's trying to match his wife's bohemian look and failing in his beige short-sleeved shirt, long khaki shorts and sandals. I whistle anyway because I think I like this version of Emmett Cullen.

Hartwood is on the jungle side of the road, more like a clearing than a restaurant, with an outdoor kitchen, bar and a little extra cover. We crunch our way in on white gravel and feast our eyes on fruit and vegetables, displayed fresh from the market. There are piles of coconuts and pineapples with a huge bunch of bananas hanging from a hook. Lamps flicker everywhere and it's smoky from wood-fired ovens and grills, producing the most mouthwatering aroma.

"I'm officially famished," Emmett announces.

Rose looks excited. "The menu is supposed to change every day."

They lead us to a table with nothing more than simple bench seats. "They've got a solar refrigerator over there," Edward observes. "And ice." He goes over to the bar and I watch him asking questions. When he returns, he looks impressed. "They're off the grid. They just run a small generator."

While we look at the drinks menu, we discuss the schedule for tomorrow and the place called Isla Mujeres where we'll stop for lunch. It's obvious we're all looking forward to this once in a lifetime adventure.

Edward and I simultaneously answer that we'd like a glass of white wine and he laughs, ordering a bottle. Rose chooses a Dirty Monkey because she likes the sound of the name. Emmett wants a Rusty Nail.

I'm still trying to work out Emmett Cullen. We didn't interact one-on-one during the day, so I assumed he was shy, or too "scientific" to open an everyday dialogue with me. He did have long and muted conversations with Rose, making me wonder about their relationship. The man who came out and showed off his "resort" attire is at odds with what I saw of him in Montana.

Edward is different, too, surprisingly content to accept our "just friends" relationship. We haven't had a cross word between us since, but I'm missing his affectionate side. He was quite the hand-holder in Montana, and he does occasionally lean against me or nudge my leg with his, but he hasn't touched me once with his hands.

I didn't anticipate how much I'd crave it now it's gone.

Emmett brings up the Masen's Whiskey campaign and fires questions at me about what comes next. I'm no marketing expert, but I encourage them to keep communicating with the agency until everyone's happy. I also recommend they pick a single shot to lead the campaign. They can add others as secondary advertising, but they need to find _the one_ to associate with their brand. When he asks me to nominate my favorite photo, I say it's not up to me. They've never seen the shots I would choose, and they never will.

Our food arrives and it's not long before we're all offering to share. The pork is cooked to perfection, the chicken highly spiced with crunchy skin. The whole fish falls off the bones, as succulent as it gets. A salad of shaved goat cheese, papaya, orange, mint, and an assortment of seeds is so good, we order another.

As the alcohol loosens everyone up, I observe and listen as they continue the conversation about the family business, and note there's been friction between them and Esme Cullen. They may not know how much they give away with subtle looks and particular words they choose. We were taught that a photographer needs time with a subject before we can tell their story, and now I'm spending time with these three, the real story is emerging. It's fascinating to watch.

Rose is slightly drunk when she lobbies for us to find a bar called Gitano, but Emmett reminds her we have to be up early.

Edward walks me back to my hotel, taking my hand and asking, "Is this okay?" I nod, enjoying the contact.

On the steps to my room, he lets go and leans on the balustrade, waiting for me to open the door. It's awkward not inviting him in, but wanting him to know much I appreciated his company today.

"Well…thank you for today. I really enjoyed it." I lean in and kiss his cheek, lingering when I feel his stubble against my skin. His arm comes around me and I meet his piercing eyes, watching them drop to my lips. His other hand encloses my throat, gently sliding down to discover a single layer of fabric covering my breast. When his thumb brushes my nipple, I shake my head and move his hands away.

"Goodnight, Edward."

He takes a step back and his eyes hold a sadness that pierces me. "Okay," he whispers, walks down the stairs, then he turns around and says, "This is bullshit and you know it," before heading off in the direction of the road.

My heart pounds in my chest and my nipples are tingling, demanding attention as I lean back against the wall. It would have been so easy to slip into a kiss.

Now he's gone, my only companion is the music drifting from some bar along the beach, and I miss him already.

I wish it didn't feel like I just made a mistake.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_

* * *

 _ **This will be the last time I post at Stars Library. I'm removing everything I've written from that site. They uploaded my last chapter without my knowledge and the only reason I knew was a post I saw on fb. I did receive an apology, but I'm now not comfortable over there, knowing an admin can get into my account, so I will only be uploading to fanfiction from now on. Thank you for all the reviews I've received from the Stars readers. I truly appreciated all of them.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you for all the reviews! I'm overwhelmed! This site has been up and down all week, so if I didn't respond, I didn't receive a notification, but I will try to go through every precious one.**_

 _ **Thank you to the women who have helped me so much with this story: Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo. Love you ladies!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4**_

I'm the first to arrive outside their hotel the next morning. We didn't make arrangements for Edward to pick me up, but I _am_ disappointed.

There was a battle going on while I tossed and turned last night. My decision not to kiss him seemed absurd when my head was flooding with memories of what I was missing. Those damn words he used in Montana keep challenging my long-held views on sexual morality, and I'm still not sure where I stand.

"No Edward?" Emmett asks as he comes out with Rose behind him.

"He's not with you?" I respond, watching him pull out his phone and text.

"No, he's staying over there." Rose surprises me, pointing to the other side of the road and up a little. It's impossible to tell what lies behind the high fences of thatch and sticks, especially when palms and other plants spill out to the edge of the road.

"He's on his way." Emmett drops his phone in his pocket and I look at today's t-shirt. It's a play on the PUMA brand, only this one says "PUMbA", with the Disney warthog in crisp silhouette. When he sees me grin, he deadpans, "Hakuna Matata."

"Don't encourage him, Bella," Rose advises with a smirk. "He'll sing all the way to Cancun and we'll be sorry."

"No worries," he responds and she tells him to shut up while hugging him to her side. "Here he is," Emmett announces and I turn around. Edward is coming up the road with that fluid walk that makes me sigh. His jaw is shadowed by his beard, and the t-shirt he's chosen is faded, understated—a small Mustang slogan with a horse.

"Sleep well did you?" he asks, staring at me.

"Fine, thank you, and you?"

"Not especially. It took me a while to get off."

Jesus. I look down at the ground, hoping no one witnesses my blush.

"Did you forget to spray again?" I look up and see what Emmett is asking—Edward's mosquito bites are worse.

"No," he answers, shaking his head. "...but they still bit me."

Rose holds his jaw so she can take a closer look. The poor man's neck is covered in red marks. "We gotta move you somewhere else."

"Rose…let's just forget about it and have a good day." The way his eyes hold mine makes me hope he's talking about our parting last night as much as the mosquito bites. When the tour van arrives, Emmett and Rose climb in, and Edward opens his arm for me to go first. I have to admit I do like his good manners.

"You must have the sweetest blood," I state with a hint of sarcasm.

He puts his arm across to block me from entering the van. "Why don't you sink your teeth in and see how sweet I can be?"

"I don't think friends bite each other, Edward."

"Friends don't have the kind of chemistry you and I had."

When I look in his eyes and sigh, he moves his arm out of the way, mumbling something as I get into the van, and I take my seat, annoyed I didn't hear him. He stares at me for a while after he sits down, then pulls out a straw cowboy hat I've seen them selling here. Inserting earbuds in his ears, he places his bag behind his head and tries to get comfortable. Then he positions the hat on his head and tilts it down over his face.

When it's obvious he's fallen asleep, I can't help wondering what sort of night he's had, enduring the piercing sound of insects attacking him. I doze off myself once Rose stops questioning our driver.

We pick up another couple, Riley and Bree, at a big hotel in Cancun before arriving at the marina. The sun is blasting as they brief us before boarding. Those who do not have biodegradable sunscreen can purchase some now, but it appears we're all good. Ours is not one of the big tours, and there are many of them here, even this late in the season. We only have six passengers on board, and there's plenty of room.

It's difficult to hear each other over the sound of the motor, so we mostly marvel at the great weather and ocean of glass. Riley and Bree hold hands, looking at each other often and smiling.

My eye lands on a camera in its underwater housing. I've used one before but not in the ocean. Walking up to Marcus, our driver, I ask if he'll be taking photos of us swimming with the sharks.

"Not today," he answers. "I'm on my own and I can't leave the boat."

"I'm a professional photographer. Is it okay if I take a look at the camera?"

"When we get out there, I'll show it to you."

He's not the friendliest tour guide, so I try my best to be nice to him, asking questions about what we should expect from the day.

We're speeding to a location in the middle of the ocean, an hour and a half from Isla Mujeres, where the whale sharks come to feed. At the peak of summer, we would expect to see forty sharks, but today, we'll be lucky to find fifteen or twenty. In a few weeks they will be gone, migrating from the area as the food supply dwindles.

These sharks are classified as vulnerable to endangered, and strict rules apply in the sanctuary we are visiting. When I ask what is threatening them, my heart leaps into my throat at his answer. "Fishing, obviously, but they don't survive collisions with boats…especially tankers."

With awful images in my head, I go back to my seat, meeting Edward's eyes and an expression I can't decipher. He leans over to hear something Emmett is saying and glances at me again, before looking out over the water.

We are one of dozens of boats when Marcus kills the engine, and there is nothing but ocean and horizon as he starts his spiel.

"You are about to meet the whale shark, the species known as 'Rhincodon typus.' Firstly, these are sharks, not whales, and they can grow to fifty feet in length. Their huge mouths contain thousands of small teeth, but they live on plankton, fish eggs and the tiniest of fish and squid, so they pose no danger to humans. At an average weight of 10 tons and a length of 30 feet, they are the biggest fish in the world."

"Goodness." Bree gasps and Riley pulls her close.

Marcus smiles at her. "It's okay. They are also the most docile—the gentle giants of the ocean. However, do not get close enough to touch them. They have a protective coating and you leave them vulnerable to bacterial attack by damaging it. In addition, they are still wild creatures, and their tails are extremely powerful.

"Only two are permitted to swim alongside at any one time and we'll say a maximum of ten minutes each turn. Please pay attention to where you are so we don't have to come and rescue you."

A fin rises out of the water, not far from the boat. "Can we go first?" Emmett asks, clicking together the fasteners of his life jacket. He and Rose sit at the back of the boat in their fins. I get some shots of them before they don their masks and snorkels, and more as they jump in. Looking around, what's happening on the surface of the ocean is pretty dull through the lens.

Changing out of my t-shirt into my long sleeved rash guard, I only need sunscreen on my face. Since the explosion of tourists, pollution of the ocean and the fresh water that runs through the cenotes has become a big problem. I figure the fewer chemicals I leave behind, the better. Wiping my hands on my towel carefully, I inquire about the underwater camera.

Marcus is impressed with my knowledge of its operation, but reluctant to let me take it into the water. I show him I know how to use the strap so it can't possibly sink, but he won't budge. I even get out the stash of business cards I keep in my camera bag to prove I'm a photographer.

Edward interrupts. "Do you normally sell photos you take of your…guests?"

"Yes, 1,000 pesos each."

"Well how about Bella takes two photos of me and I buy them from you." He pulls the cash from his wallet and holds it out. I stare at him, so grateful he's trying to make this happen for me, and notice he's wearing a long sleeved rash guard, just like mine.

Marcus hesitates and shakes his head. "I would have to remove the housing to give you the images and I'm not the one who puts it back together."

I've got him there. "You don't have to. I'll upload them to my phone and then we'll delete them. No one needs to know."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. It's quite easy with the app on the phone." I'm honestly shocked they have this expensive camera and don't use its wireless technology.

We're assaulted by a booming noise coming from the water. Emmett and Rose are near the boat and he's yelling through his snorkel before pulling it from his mouth. "Incredible, people. Incredible!"

"Hey, Em?" Edward calls out. "Would you pay a thousand pesos for a photo with the shark?"

"Hell, yeah! Have I got time to find another one?"

"One more!" Marcus calls back over his shoulder.

"Sweet," Emmett responds, holding a thumb up.

"Should we go next?" Bree asks. Our lovebirds look excited, already wearing their life jackets and holding their gear.

Marcus doesn't acknowledge them, still eyeing the cash. "Okay." he agrees, taking the money from Edward.

Edward winks at me and I smile, loving his victory. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he responds and gets his own gear together.

Riley and Bree are already in the water when Emmett and Rose throw their fins on the deck and climb the ladder.

"Oh my God, that's a big-assed shark. From the back, you'd swear it was a great white."

Rose grins at us. "Look at you two surfer dudes."

"What?" Edward asks.

"You're matching."

He looks down at himself and then me. "We are…perfectly matched." His lingering stare makes me wonder what he's trying to say. We've only known each other for a few days, so I don't understand the comment.

It's not long before Bree drags herself up the ladder and slumps down on a seat. She rips off her mask and leans her head back.

"Everything okay?" Marcus asks.

"It's exhausting," she says, panting. "I can't keep up with those sharks. My legs are shaking."

"But you enjoyed it?"

She nods her head and smiles. "I just need a rest."

Bree's early return means I have to face my problem. I've never snorkeled and I assumed our guide would give us simple instructions before we went in the water. Marcus won't let me take the camera if he suspects, so I watch everything Edward does and copy him.

We're already over the side when Riley returns. I said I wanted a few minutes to accustom myself to the weight of the camera, but I don't know if I'm supposed to bite down on the mouthpiece or why it feels like there is still water in the snorkel after I've blown it out.

Quietly, Edward speaks to me. "You haven't done this before, have you." I shake my head slowly, anxious he's noticed. "A quick puff of air is enough to clear the water. Keep your tongue on the roof of your mouth and you'll be fine."

"Thank you," I reply, appreciating his kindness.

The sensation is strange but worth it for access to this amazingly clear ocean. I've only ever experienced fuzzy and murky on the rare occasion I opened my eyes underwater. Now I cannot wait to see how the shots turn out.

When I see the first shark, I forget to breathe anyway. It looks like it's hardly moving, its huge mouth opening and closing as it comes toward us, surrounded by a swirling school of bright yellow fish. A man swims just above, dwarfed by the massive fish, using his arms and fins to propel himself through the water.

I don't have the use of my arms so I stay where I am as Edward swims up to it. The sun's rays in the water illuminate them both, creating a beautiful effect I have to capture. The shark comes close, quicker than I expected, and he's suddenly finning fast to catch up. Now I can admire its spots and the long ridges that run along its body. From the side, there's no mistaking it's a shark—only its mouth makes it unique.

It starts to rise and becomes vertical in the water. I yell through the snorkel at Edward, fearing it's some territorial move to warn him to stay away, when I see it gulping water on the surface—vast quantities of ocean pouring in like it could never fill up. The pictures I take show Edward transfixed by the sight just feet from his face. Even wearing a mask and snorkel, I can see he's grinning. I get a shot half under and half above the surface, which looks amazing.

When it lowers its head, Edward moves to the side and we follow for a couple of minutes. I know what happened to Bree—it _is_ hard work keeping up, so I stop and rest, watching the huge tail move slowly through the water. Edward soon notices I'm not with him and turns back, pointing like crazy at something behind me.

I turn around to find a huge manta ray gliding toward us with hitchhiker fish holding on for the ride. Keeping completely still, we watch as it slowly passes and disappears into the blue. Then we look at each other in wonder, having witnessed something truly majestic.

A new shark appears, even bigger than the first, skimming the surface with its mouth open wide. Sadly, this one is missing half its dorsal fin, but at least it survived. Edward has no fear of the monstrous fish with his hand out, resisting the temptation to touch.

We let it go as people jump in ahead, and although this could not be more amazing, I feel for the poor sharks never getting any peace out here.

There's no rest for me when Emmett and Rosalie take Edward's place. They have both abandoned their life jackets, diving down and giving me a different perspective of them rising up under the shark. Edward's photos were more dramatic and surprising while these are serene. I hope they like them because I'm only getting one chance at this. They should be pleased with one of the two of them swimming together beside the massive shark.

Bree and Riley are completely different. He is strong in the water, while she holds back and watches. I encourage her to move closer, so I can get her in the frame.

When I'm happy I have enough shots to satisfy everyone, I swim back and leave them to it, finding Edward still in the water near the back of the boat. Reaching the ladder, he asks me to wait, then calls to Marcus to take the camera.

"You need to do this without the camera, at least once, Bella." I'm surprised how heavy it feels as I hand it up. "Give me your jacket so we can dive down."

It's freeing using my arms finally, and without the jacket I'm not fighting it's buoyancy. When I locate a shark, I don't even think before diving down, and Edward is right with me. Rising slowly, I study its pale underside, home to five sucker fish. The top of its head is covered with hundreds of random freckles while the body is marked with dots, more like co-ordinates. I'm thrilled Edward made me go back in the water. I've had more time with the sharks than anyone, but to have missed the real joy of swimming freely with these creatures would have been a missed opportunity.

Back on board, I'm happy to wait and check the photos while the others take their final turns with the sharks. Bree goes through them with me, delighted to see herself in some of the shots. I tell her to pay Marcus for one only and I'll email her the rest. She glances at Marcus, and smiles at me, mouthing, "Thank you."

We don't have phone service until we reach Isla Mujeres, and the sounds of incoming texts and notifications seem weird as we come in. My phone has been switched off for hours, conserving battery for the upload, and I'm in two minds about completing it first or going swimming with the others. The ocean floor is grassy here and it's so clear I can see fish.

I don't know what I think of Marcus as a tour guide. He's been lazy and sloppy in making us follow the rules, not even interested when most of us abandoned our life jackets. He should never have allowed me to use the camera, but I am appreciative, so I uphold my side of the bargain and show him the upload process. Lucky for me, the service here is surprisingly fast and it's not long before we've wiped the camera of evidence and he shows his relief. No one needs to know he's made an extra two-hundred dollars cash today.

As soon as I hear Edward call out "Turtles," I rush to get my gear on and enter a completely different world than this morning's deep ocean. The blue is gone, replaced by a shallow sea full of brightly-colored fish. The others are up ahead, floating and watching three turtles chomping away at seaweed. Looking around, I can't remember the last time I felt so free and happy.

Our tour includes a traditional Mexican lunch and Marcus calls ahead, giving us directions to a café. They welcome us, somehow knowing who we are, and place a jar of juice with a straw in front of each of us. It looks strangely rustic but the juice is cold and fresh and delicious. Rose says this feels like Tulum did when she last visited and proceeds to tell us about her spring break vacation to Cancun. They only came to Tulum on a day trip and she always said she wanted to come back and stay longer.

After the jars of juice, I'm not surprised by the presentation of the food. I am, however, blown away by how tasty everything is. I could live on the chicken fajitas, accompanied by bowls of sauces, limes, guacamole and a salad of tomatoes and onions. The shrimp with its spicy sauce, beans and rice is delicious, and the platter of fresh fruit finishes the meal off beautifully. I'm not the only one raving over the food either. I guess we're all hungry after the morning of exercise because we eat every bit, happy to leave a tip of 1,000 pesos between us. They hand us a foil-wrapped package for Marcus when we go.

Edward takes my hand when we cross the street and doesn't let go until we're back at the boat. I line everyone up to get a group shot on the jetty, and when Marcus offers to take one with me included, it's already focused, so I agree and go to stand next to Edward. I must be in vacation mode because it's very uncharacteristic of me to willingly pose for a photo.

It's three o'clock when we say goodbye to Marcus at the marina in Cancun. When Emmett offers him cash, he waves it away. It seems everyone is satisfied by the wonderful day.

As we wait for our transport, I get Bree's email address and she hugs me, thanking me for my help in the water. Riley is likewise thankful and shakes my hand. We all call out to them when they leave the van and get comfortable for the trip back to Tulum. When Emmett starts singing, I remember what Rose said. He's tone deaf but it suits him, and I almost join in. My three companions have really grown on me today.

Edward calls his hotel as we come, into Tulum. "Are you moving?" Rose asks.

"Not until tomorrow," he answers. "I now have a net, apparently."

She looks away, glaring. "This is making me so mad. Let me talk to them."

"No. Just leave it Rose."

With a frown, she sighs, giving up. "Okay. Where are we going tonight? Gitano's?"

"No. Tomorrow night, babe. Aren't you tired?" Emmett asks.

"Mateo's then. I want those fish tacos." She puts her arms around him and looks lovingly into his eyes. "We can still make the sunset lounge if we go right away."

Emmett looks at us and we both shrug. It sounds like a good idea to me. The driver is happy to drop us at the restaurant and I see Emmett hand him some money as we get out.

"Hang on a second." I take my mosquito spray from my bag and offer it to Edward.

"Repel plant based lemon eucalyptus. You brought this from home?" When I nod, he says. "Maybe that's my problem. I got mine here."

Rose reads it when it's her turn to spray. "It only lasts for six hours. It's your room that's the problem, Edward."

"Then I'll set an alarm and spray myself again. Okay? Happy now, Rose?"

"Sorry," she says as if she knows she's going overboard.

Emmett lightens the situation. "I'm buyin' folks. Who's drinkin'?"

"I am." I announce, and follow him. "Something with Kahlúa I think."

"Kahlúa and vodka. Yeah, I might join you."

"Me three," Rose calls out, walking with her arm through Edward's.

The sunset lounge at Mateo's is the top level of a timber tower, higher than the palm trees of Tulum. There's no drink service up here but the guy playing sax is really good. It's about as informal as you can get and I love that we don't have to feel underdressed, still in our clothes from today. I make sure I take photos of them looking relaxed and tinted by the red of the sun. It's been such a magical day.

Edward is downstairs, getting another round of drinks, when Rose leans into Emmett. He surrounds her with his arm and kisses her hair. The colors are already deepening in the sky over the jungle before them and I take the shot with a lump in my throat, knowing they'll love the romance in the picture. When she looks up at him, inviting him to kiss her, I take another to capture their intimacy.

"You know there'll never be anyone but you," she says clearly.

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he responds with a sigh as he leans on her head.

I step back and turn away, embarrassed by what I just witnessed.

 _Was their marriage actually crumbling? Are they here trying to salvage it?_

"Here you go." Edward places a tray with four glasses on the table.

"Thank you." I smile at him.

"My pleasure." I do like the way he says that.

He's looks gorgeous right now and I can't help pushing his hair back, thinking of all the nice things he's done for me today, and seeing the red on his forehead. "You're sunburned. How are you doing with the mosquitoes?"

"So far, so good." His lips curl up into a smile and he says, "Thanks for the spray."

Now it's my turn to say it. "My pleasure." I cannot deny I'm glad Edward came to Tulum. He's kind, surprising close to his brother, and real with his sister-in-law, who obviously cares about him.

Tearing my eyes from his lips and the beard that's starting to get to me, I pick up two glasses and join Rose and Emmett to catch the last of the sunset. When Edward rubs my back, I'm ready to ask him to stop, knowing I'm vulnerable and starved of this kind of affection, but he takes his hand away quickly and leans against the railing. Even though this vacation is turning into a wonderful surprise, it will be over in a week and then everything will change. I wish it was otherwise, that I could pursue the attraction I'm feeling, but my head tells me it's not possible.

At the end of the meal, Rose lets out a huge sigh and sits back. "Way too much food."

"I knew you wouldn't finish it," Emmett comments, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I think I might need to lie down. Day of leisure tomorrow?"

We both nod and Emmett leaves cash on the table. "Come on, baby. I'll take you back."

When they go, we finish our wine in silence, glancing around at the other patrons. Then Edward turns to me. "Are you still offering that treatment for the bites?" I look at him sideways, wondering what he's proposing.

"The aloe vera?"

His smile is soft. "Yeah, I could sure use somethin'. It gets worse at night." I feel like he's being honest. It's hell when you're trying to sleep. "Will you show me how it's done?"

After a couple of seconds where our eyes connect, he responds.

"If you're too tired…"

"No, I'm not that tired." I swallow, wary of him again. "Only if you can behave yourself, Cullen."

"I guess I can try," he says, smiling. "Should I... go back and shower first?"

He should shower, then apply the gel and repellant immediately after, so his mosquito ridden room is the last place he should go. "No, that will leave you unprotected. How about you grab a change of clothes and come to my room?"

"I'll walk you down first and go back for the clothes."

I stifle the, _"No you won't,"_ before we start to butt heads again. The sad truth is I've forgotten how to appreciate a man volunteering to look after me. Maybe I told Jake too many times I was fine and he stopped offering. It's just another one of those things I didn't realize I was missing.

"My momma would take a stick to me if she knew I let a woman walk the streets on her own."

"A stick?" I ask, incredulously.

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, as honest as can be.

Sometimes, I look at Edward and cannot fathom how he is still single. Right now, he's totally adorable in an old-fashioned way. "Okay," I agree, getting cash from my bag.

He holds up his hand. "Emmett left enough to pay for all of us. It's cheap."

I narrow my eyes as we stand, but I'm smiling.

We get a cab that drops us near my hotel. He takes me all the way to my door and then leaves. I enter my room, seeing someone has been in and spread the net around the bed for sleeping. They've been generous with the netting, so there is no way a mosquito could get in there. It's another example of this hotel taking the right kind of care. I've hardly noticed I don't have a fridge or hair dryer. I have power for the ceiling fan and lights, and I'm self-sufficient for the rest—something I'll have to deal with in the morning.

Checking the camera battery and phone are actually charging, I make sure everything looks tidy. Slightly nervous, I sniff my black tank and soft gray shorts, deciding they're fine to wear again.

When he knocks, I'm salt-free and shampooed, running a comb through my wet hair.

"I like how quiet it is here, Bella. There's no roar of air-conditioning."

"Yeah, it's peaceful. Come on in."

With a whistle he says, "Smells good," looking around like he's never been inside before.

Opening the bathroom door, I hand him a towel. "You have to use their products in the bathroom. The shower's not bad."

"Thanks." He takes his backpack with him and closes the door.

I locate the aloe vera and search for the Benadryl capsules. Finding the familiar box, I remember there was always one in our bathroom cabinet back home, our go-to medicine for all sorts of ailments. I continue to use it the way I was raised because I've had enough mosquito bites and stings over the years to know that it works.

It's one of many habits I've kept from my childhood in Forks, like brushing my teeth after every shower, something I can hear Edward doing right now. I wonder what he looks like with a white towel wrapped around his hips. Maybe he's naked in there…

"What do you want me to put on?" he sings out and my stomach contracts. He _is_ naked. Then the door opens enough to see his bare chest and cheeky grin. With his hair slicked back, he's become the Armani model, risen from the ocean. "Do you want to do it in the bathroom?"

I feel my cheeks heat at the innuendo. "I…I assumed we'd go inside the net."

He closes the door and then comes out, wearing a pair of gray shorts, not unlike mine. "On the bed? You sure?"

"Don't get the wrong idea, Cullen."

He lowers his bag to the floor, letting out a long sigh and says, "Okay, Bella, the bed it is."

"Take these first," I hand him two Benadryl capsules, pouring half a glass of water from a bottle.

"What am I taking?"

"Antihistamine. It helps with swelling and the itchiness. Trust me, they work."

He swallows them down without further question and I open up the side of the net. Clambering in, he sits cross-legged, leaning back on his hands to study the canopy, closing his eyes when I turn on the fan.

"This is wonderful. The room itself is quite basic, but in here, it's five star."

Annoyed, I defend the hotel I chose. "It's not that basic, Edward. I have everything I need."

"There's no power outlet in the bathroom and no television. Do you have a fridge?"

I shake my head. "For your information, I like the simplicity, and I can watch television at home. Do you want me to do your back or not?"

"I do," he answers, sitting up straighter as I kneel behind him. Applying the gel with a cotton ball, I soon realize I'll be here all night, trying to treat the bites individually, so I squeeze out a larger quantity and spread it like lotion. His neck seems to have been their main target zone.

"Oh, that feels great." As his head sags forward, I find I'm enjoying this more than I should.

"Okay, Edward, turn around to face me."

He yawns as he spins around. "Sorry," he says, making us both laugh. It _has_ been a big day and I'm looking forward to a sleep in tomorrow.

Unfortunately, the chest before me brings back images I should not be revisiting, certainly not while he's here. My breasts are at the same level as his face and he's blatantly staring at them, so I sit back on my heels.

He must have been lying on his back when the mosquitoes attacked because his front is much worse. Squeezing gel onto a cotton ball, I start dabbing at the bites near his ear, assuring him this will help. The cotton ball catches on his stubble and I have to switch to use the tip of my finger. He watches my face and every movement I make, saying nothing when I squeeze the gel directly onto his neck.

I hesitate, tentative to massage an area I know stimulates him. I remember his groans when I sucked on his neck as I rode him. My nipples react when I think of them rubbing against his chest, his fingers finding them and…

As I spread gel down over his shoulders, his skin breaks out in goosebumps. "Are you cold? Should I turn the fan off?"

"I'm not cold." He takes the gel from me and uses it on his arms and over his chest, handing it back when he's finished. "I'm aroused." Instantly, I flinch, ready to defend myself. "I'm not going to do anything about it, so calm down." Allowing my eyes to fall, I see the erection. "As I said, Bella, I'm a master of restraint."

My heart pounds and I know this is my fault, but I'm not going to apologize for trying to help him. Screwing the lid on the tube, I leave him inside to…do whatever men do with an unwanted erection. It's embarrassing to accept I let this happen, but I'm glad it happened with a man who has the decency not to laugh at my naiveté.

"Is it okay if I lie back and enjoy this?"

"Of course it is." He's been through hell for two nights. "Just stay on your back so you dry." I'll wait five minutes before I get him to spray repellent. Checking my phone, it's charged enough to show him the photos. "Do you want to see your pictures with the whale shark?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he sings out excitedly. For the next ten minutes, he smiles, scrolling through the images, zooming in and out. He describes his awe when the shark was gulping water right in front of him, and how insignificant he felt swimming alongside. I am surprised by how well some of them turned out, and I can't wait to see them on my giant monitor back home.

Handing the phone back, he folds his arms behind his neck and looks up, sighing. "What a great day." I hum my agreement, relaxed and enjoying the fact that I got to share it with them. Before I know it, I'm falling asleep and the phone drops from my hand. I open my eyes to tell him it's time for the repellant but he's out cold, a whisper of a smile lingering on his handsome face.

I don't have the heart to wake him, watching him for the minute or so it takes me to give in to sleep.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you so much for the reviews and new people reading this week. I have really enjoyed hearing your thoughts.**_

 _ **Thank you also for all the input and encouragement from Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5**_

When I wake up, the first thing I see is my hand, bathed in the blue monochromatic light of the earliest part of the day. It might look cold, but it's warm where it rests on Edward's chest. I'm on his side of the bed and we're snuggled up together. His fingers are in my hair, one long leg splayed out and the other entwined with mine. With a long exhale, I savor the feeling.

Jake hated sleeping like this, saying it made him too sweaty. Eventually, I turned my back on him permanently, pretending to be asleep if he ever wanted sex.

The way Edward and I are this morning is how I always imagined a couple in love would sleep together, and I'm not moving an inch in case I wake him and end it.

* * *

The next time I open my eyes, there's a sound of heavy and regular exhaling, like someone exercising. Getting out of bed, I find Edward doing push-ups on the deck outside. Wearing just his board shorts, his whole body is one straight line, pumping arm muscles, tight legs and ass. The sheen of sweat emphasizes the contours of his back and the action reminds me of being under him when we were…

Shamelessly, I watch until he notices me and smiles. Grinning back, I ask, "Did you use the repellant?"

"I did, but thank you for reminding me."

"How many push-ups do you do each day?"

"About fifty." He gets up and stretches from side to side, twisting, then holding an ankle up to his butt cheek. "You didn't kick me out."

"I fell asleep."

"God, I slept like a log. What a fantastic bed."

"And no more bites?"

Shaking his head, he asks, "Feel like a swim this morning?"

Looking at the ocean, I nod. It's incredibly inviting—another hot day in Tulum—but there's something I must attend to first. I'm down to one camera battery, so I take out my pouch and unravel the cord, looking for a suitable spot to hang it up.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm recharging."

Reading the words on the pouch aloud, he seems impressed. "Portable solar charger." When I open it, he looks surprised by its size. "Does it work?"

"Five volts, two amps. It charges my portable battery in about half a day, and I do a camera battery at the same time."

He hovers while I stand on a chair and position the panels to face the sun. A wooden beam under the thatch roof provides a good place for the batteries. Spinning the combination lock, it's secure and I'm done.

Helping me down, he makes an observation. "You didn't buy this for the vacation, did you?"

I shake my head. "I couldn't survive without it when I go on location. Sometimes we hike for days to find what we're after."

He turns his head slightly to the side and smirks. "You are one interesting woman." I'm smiling at him, thinking how much I like having him here, when he stares for a little too long and it starts to feel awkward.

"So, swim first and then breakfast?"

"Sure." His smirk fades and he nods, but it's like I've disappointed him. "You get changed, Bella. I'll wait." He faces the ocean, sitting on the arm of a chair, running a hand through his hair.

Hesitating, I think about what I've done, why I sense I've hurt him…again. Taking a bikini into the bathroom, I stare at the woman in the mirror, knowing I'm leading him on. Spending all my time in his company and allowing him to stay over is wrong when there's chemistry between us. No matter what I've said, I'm tormenting him by prolonging whatever he thinks this is.

The woman staring back from the mirror knows how much I like Edward Cullen. She also knows that if we'd met some other time, I wouldn't have this awful sense of futility.

Softly, I say to myself, "You're not ready for another relationship. You need time to heal." With that in mind, I get changed for the conversation we must have, and soon.

"Nice…swimsuit." Edward's eyes roam over me but there's tension in his expression. For a second, I think about initiating our talk here and now when he looks like he could use an explanation, but I hesitate, needing to clear my head first and think.

"Let's go." I lock up and head in the direction of the counter for towels.

As soon as we're in the water, Edward dives under and swims out. It's still quiet while guests sleep and the restaurant prepares for breakfast. At this time of the day, there's no music, and the gentle waves are louder than the sound of plates, cups and cutlery.

The beach is simply magnificent deserted like this and, unlike the first day when I was on my own, I don't feel lonely. The man I see powering through the water is with me, making everything better by just being my companion. Watching him and feeling content makes me question why I'm keeping him at arm's length, so I float on my back to try to make sense of my thoughts.

I'm not at my best right now. Ever since the separation, I've lamented the failure of my relationship with Jake. While I accept that staying with him was no longer tolerable, there were times I could have handled things better, ignoring instead of flaring up and arguing.

My good friend, Angela, and Garrett, for that matter, urged me to follow my instincts during many soul-baring discussions. I recognize it was our friendship that ruined the marriage, and marriage that destroyed our friendship, but Jake has to take some of the blame. He made the choice to move away from his family. I didn't ask him to give up his life for me, but I still cry and regret how much we hurt each other before it was over.

I don't ever want to hurt anyone or be hurt like that again.

I've made my share of mistakes and I'm making another with Edward. I keep wounding him, and he won't understand my need to grieve the loss of my marriage before I can start something new. This isn't fair on a man who's been honest, kind and courteous to me.

"Ugh!" Something scrapes across my back and my feet automatically hit the sand. Then it feels like a school of fish run into me, one of them taking a nip of my thigh, and I yelp. Edward swims toward me and rises up out of the water, lifting me in his arms.

"Please put me down."

"What? I thought you were freaking out."

He lowers me but his arms remain, and my body screams "yes" as it tingles against him. His scruff looks softer today—its color more obvious now. This beard is becoming a preoccupation, a fascination with the blond emerging in the Mexican sun. He must have been very fair as a child.

God, I don't dare reach up and touch it.

"No, I'm just…please let me go." With soft, compassionate eyes, he loosens his embrace, and with a long slow sigh, he moves the hair from my face. The intimacy is overwhelming. It's too much. He's too close.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I never invited you here."

"Oh, yes you did." He smiles and runs his thumb over my jaw. "I wish we could go back to that night after the harvest when you dragged me into your hotel room. You are one sexy woman when you're not overthinkin' things."

I can hardly look at him. "I don't know why I let that happen. I've never been promiscuous."

"You _do_ know. It's the reason your heart is currently beating so fast."

His eyes capture me as I look up. He slips his fingers into my hair and I'm right back at the harvest, ready to kiss him for the first time.

"Where do you go, Bella? Where's the girl who thought she could fight me off?" I look down and shake my head, then walk toward the sand. "Was I so wrong about you?"

Turning around, I respond. "How could you be wrong when you don't know me?"

"I knew you long before you came to Montana." Frowning, I don't know what to make of the statement. "At least, I thought I did."

He can't possibly know anything personal about me. Garrett and I have searched online and there's nothing that could turn anyone off hiring me. I'm completely anonymous, so now I'm intrigued. We lay our towels out in the cabana as friends would, an appropriate distance apart. He lies on his side, cradling his jaw with his hand, and I roll over on my stomach.

"I never pictured you as a city girl."

 _Okay, he's perceptive. I'll give him that._

"I'm not from the city. I grew up in a small town in the northwest of the state. I've only been living in Seattle for a few years."

"I knew it!"

"Why is that important?"

"Because you _had_ to have a connection to the land. It shows in the photos you take. There was a picture of yours hanging on the wall in an engineer's office and I couldn't stop looking at it. It's the reason I pushed them to hire you for the harvest."

"I sell them on my website. Which one was it?"

"It's a clearing at the edge of a forest with everything covered in thick snow. It doesn't look misty and bleak—the sky is clear, like winter has already broken. A single snow capped mountain stands in the distance and the peak is vibrant red. It's reflected in a tiny lake in the foreground that looks like it just melted."

"Mount Rainier National Park at dawn."

"How did you get an image like that with a bear cub poking its head out from the trees?"

The fact he noticed makes me smile. "Extreme luck, believe me. A few seconds later we were shouting to warn its mother we were nearby."

"There were only two words printed on the bottom of the photo. At first, I didn't know if black bear was the name of the photo or the place or the company or the photographer. It led me to believe you were Native American."

Wow. "It's funny you say that because Jake is Native American, but I'm not."

"Oh." After he takes this in, he says, "Well you should do something about your presence on the internet. You only just scraped in on page ten on a Google search where I finally found out you were Isabella Black. Do you know there's not a single photo of you anywhere?"

I shrug, pleased he's confirmed he found nothing. "I'm never in photos because I'm always the one taking them. Facebook was under my maiden name of Bella Swan. I deactivated when people posted horrible vicious things about me."

He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, then squeezes it slightly. I don't think he'd ask what they wrote, but I want to explain before he assumes the worst.

"Jake's grandfather was chief, back when they still lived as a tribe. Apparently, I insulted everyone by wanting the split. They were supposed to be my friends, but they only tolerated me because I was married to him. I was never one of them after all."

"You're hurtin'."

"Yeah." I sense he won't push me but I do want him to know he's not the problem. I cannot live with myself by hurting him further.

"I've let go of the fact that they turned their backs on me. I don't expect you to understand, but choosing to end a marriage is having to accept failure. When you tell your family, you have to deal with their disappointment and justify why you are ruining your life. They want you to convince them you're sure you know what you're doing, and it makes you question your decision over and over again. Then when you separate, it's not like a clean break. You don't wake up one morning, single and happy. Do you see why I'm not ready to jump into something new?"

"I understand failure, Bella. I've had girlfriends who didn't work out. Unfortunately, it's not like that for me. This isn't somethin' new."

"What?"

"As I said before, I saw somethin' in your photos that drew me to you. I couldn't wait to meet the person who viewed the world like that. Instead, I let myself get distracted by a gorgeous woman, alone and ordering our whiskey at the bar. Now _she_ was somethin' I couldn't resist."

I cannot help but smile at this wildly flattering compliment.

"Can you imagine how I felt when I found out _you_ were Isabella Black? I _had_ to give this my best shot."

Oh boy, my brain is full of thoughts crashing into each other. He's so sure, so willing, that I want to ride the crest of the wave with him. This man has the ability to turn me in a complete one-eighty. I came down to the beach to tell him I was sorry but the timing was wrong, that we had no future, and now I'm so confused I don't know how to respond. I've never met anyone like him.

"I know you like me, Bella. When you're not all caught up in your head, you show me all the time."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Except for last night when you found out I had a boner, you never flinch when I touch you. Your words and body language don't match."

Thinking over the last few days, I can see that's true. While I thought I was was covering my physical attraction, my eyes must have given me away.

"Look, Bella, I don't want you conflicted all the time. If it helps, I won't touch you anymore. Let's just get to know each other and have fun."

"Okay." I smile, knowing I couldn't ask for a better offer.

"I'm hungry. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Sure, leave the towels here. I'll just go and get something to wear."

As I split off to the right, he asks, "Will you grab a t-shirt from my bag?"

"No problem."

The white cover-up is so soft it feels like a cloud gliding over my skin. There's not much to it, but it does the job. It's actually the first time I've noticed how much color I'm getting without even laying in the sun. I grab my phone from the safe with the idea of taking a very rare selfie when I see I've missed a call from Angela. Since we're two hours ahead of Seattle, I might catch her getting ready for work.

" _Hey, hey!"_ she calls out, sounding thrilled to hear from me. _"What's it like?"_

"Beautiful; more spectacular than the brochures."

" _I'm so jealous. I wish I could have come."_

"I know. I miss you."

" _Are you lonely on your own?"_

"Well…I was…"

" _But not now?"_

"No."

 _After a few seconds, she asks, "Who is keeping you company?"_

"Edward is here."

" _Edward...as in hot-cowboy-Edward-from-Montana?"_

"Yeah."

" _You invited him? You told me he threatened to stop you leaving the country."_

"I didn't invite him. He arrived out of the blue."

With a sigh, she starts to protest. _"May I remind you of the pounding my ears took for days about this guy? You called him a controlling asshole."_

"He didn't want me here on my own." I imagine her eyes narrowing as she goes silent, processing my attempt to explain. "His brother and sister-in-law are here too."

" _Wasn't his brother… oh, never mind. Do you know what you are doing? Are you sleeping with him again?"_

"Yes and no." This sounds like a game but I know she's not taking it that way. Angela has always been very protective of me.

" _Stop being evasive and talk to me."_

"We shared a bed, but nothing happened. Nothing _is_ going to happen."

She coughs. _"This is the guy you had the best sex of your life with."_

"That's right, but I told him I only want to be friends."

With a laugh, she asks, _"And he's accepting that?"_

"He's being a thorough gentleman, mostly."

After shrieks of laughter, she echoes, _"Oh… only_ mostly _."_

"He's nice, Ang, and I can't help warming to a man who keeps saying he wants a relationship."

" _From Montana..."_

"Look, I'm confused right now, but I like him. I do want to get to know what's on the inside."

" _Well…promise me you'll take it slowly. Capture him on film, Bella. You always said the camera doesn't lie. Remember?"_

"Yeah." With a smile, I know I already did. If she saw the photos of Edward I keep for myself: him holding his niece, his face when he talked about starting his business, or his joy when his shirt flew up in the wind, she would see in an instant how special he is, telling me I'm stupid considering pushing him away.

" _I love you. I'm here anytime you want to talk but I gotta go to work."_

"Love you, too. Thanks, Ang."

I end the call, and place the phone back in the safe, knowing I've kept Edward waiting. When I open his bag to get a t-shirt, I'm startled, reading the label on a thirty-six value pack of Trojan ultra-thin condoms.

 _Oh my God. Thirty-six. Really? What the hell was he expecting?_

I'm caught red-handed, holding the evidence, when I look up and see Edward climbing the steps outside. His eyes flick from the box to my face several times as he comes to a standstill.

I could just…die.

With a suspicious expression, he crosses his arms over his chest. "What are you doin' with those condoms?"

Looking down at my hand, still clutching the box, I let it drop into the bag. My cheeks feel like they're on fire. "I was…just…I was getting your t-shirt."

"Well, if you're changin' your mind about havin' sex with me, I'm ready." I throw a t-shirt at him and he catches it, giving me a devilish smile. "Just puttin' it out there."

Without hesitating, I take the keys and wait for him to move aside so I can lock up. Then I head down the stairs and over to the restaurant.

"No shoes?"

Rolling my eyes, I stomp back up and step into my flip-flops. When I look up at him, he's trying not to laugh, pulling down the t-shirt that says, "WHAT WOULD MACGYVER DO?" and I'm suddenly overcome with a fit of the giggles.

"You're going to drive me crazy, aren't you, Cullen?"

"Until I get my sassy Bella back, I fully intend to."

* * *

Edward stands as soon as we finish breakfast. "I should go back to my room and see if they're moving me today."

"Oh?" I'm suddenly downcast. I know I shouldn't become attached to him, but I don't want him to go. "I'll come with you."

With a grimace, he responds, "I won't be gone long."

"I'd like to see where you're staying."

Now he looks uncomfortable. "Really, Bella, you don't have to. This is my problem. Stay here and relax."

I swear he's trying to avoid me seeing his room. "I can do that when we come back."

He runs his hand through his hair and I stare at him, ready for another attempt to put me off. Taking a deep breath, he nods, giving in to me, something that hasn't happened very often.

We walk up the road past Be Tulum and I ask if he wants to check in with Rose and Emmett on the way back.

He shakes his head as he opens the gate of his hotel. "Not today."

A concrete pathway leads to an open area where a small black dog observes us without much interest. The rooms have gray tiled roofs and walls covered in rough-looking stucco, colored in varying shades of amber and terracotta.

Sick-looking palms grow out of tiny circular gardens, vying for nourishment with other weedy-looking plants. In comparison to the lush vegetation at my hotel, this is sad and neglected.

A cough, heavy and bronchial, makes me look for its source, and a man, smoking a cigarette, appears in the doorway of a room. "Hola," he greets us with a deep raspy voice, scorched from years of smoking. The room behind him looks like it's being painted from the drop sheets and ladder inside. We echo his greeting and keep walking, hearing the cough start up again.

When Edward opens his door, he picks up an envelope from the floor and reads a letter contained inside, throwing it on a chair, angrily.

"I'm not movin' today. I believe we just passed by my new room where that person sounds like he's gonna die."

As I take in the interior of his room, I'm not sure what depresses me the most. At first glance, it looks clean enough, but a cheap pedestal fan sits on the floor and a paper lantern shades the overhead light. The only personality I see is a cartoonish painting of two gaudy mustard-colored roosters.

The "net" they've provided is a monstrosity. It's like an inner tent, a self-supporting dome tucked under the mattress at its base. With a shudder, I imagine sleeping in that tomb in the dark, hearing a chorus of mosquitoes buzzing on the other side.

His bathroom is gloomy, the only daylight coming from a small window up high. The lack of ventilation explains the smell of bleach in here and could be the reason he stopped shaving. I get out of there as quickly as possible.

Pulling aside a set of curtains, a window faces more concrete where two overly tanned women are sunbathing topless. I quickly close the curtain on that view, and realize nothing about this hotel adds up.

 _What is Edward doing in a place like this? It's September so it can't be a lack of vacancies. Surely, it's not the money. He may drive an old Mustang, but it's expensive to keep one in that kind of condition. He and his family don't seem like they're on a budget, eating at the best restaurants, spending up big on tours. Rose and Emmett are staying at Be Tulum, so why is Edward slumming it here?_

When the most obvious answer dawns on me, I decide to test him, to see if he'll answer me honestly. "Why are you staying in this dump, Edward?"

His eyes flick away for a second before he answers. "I didn't think I'd be spending that much time here."

"You thought you'd be staying with me."

"Yes," he answers, lifting that damn scruffy jaw defiantly, and meeting my stare. There's no hint of remorse in his expression. It's what he planned and that's that.

When I can't keep the stare going anymore, I glance around the room and my eyes land on the net he'll have to sleep in, knowing I'll picture it every time we say goodnight.

I look at him again, and his eyebrows raise a fraction, asking a silent question.

"Okay, you said you won't touch me. Can you stick to that promise?"

Now he smiles. "If I have to… yes."

"Then get your stuff together. You're not spending another night here."

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I have to admit, I was a little overwhelmed with reviews this week. Lots of people I've never heard from before. You guys have some strong opinions! I did love reading them all, though, and some were right on the mark.**_

 _ **Love to my girls who help me so much with this: Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 6**_

"Are you kidding?" Edward calmly asks the man who hands him an invoice for three nights accommodation.

"No, señor. Check in was Saturday."

"Let's talk, amigo." Edward leans on the counter and shows him his phone. "This is the room I booked."

"Yes, señor," the man confirms with a smile, admiring a picture from their website.

"Now, just wait." Edward holds up a finger and switches to his gallery. "Does this look familiar?"

He stares while Edward swipes through a dozen images, then sighs as he looks up. "Señor, I have already apologized for the inconvenience. We have a new room almost ready for you."

"Just a minute. See this crack?" Edward draws his attention to one particular photo. "When it runs across the ceiling and continues down the wall, it's a sign of structural damage, and no amount of replastering will fix it. I'm only an architect, but I recommend an engineer's report before someone is injured when the roof falls in."

There's a standoff while the two veiled threats hang the air between them. The man watches for any sign of pretense, but fails to out-stare Edward. Backing down, he moves to his computer and taps on the keyboard, printing a new invoice marked "GRATIS."

Edward winks at me as he slings his bag over his shoulder, and I shake my head.

"How did you do that?" I ask as we wait to cross the road. "There wasn't even an argument."

"I told you I'm becoming a master of restraint."

Back in my room, Edward is humming as he hangs his clothes in the closet. He's in such a good mood after his two wins this morning that I'm beginning to question my hasty decision to invite him here. I couldn't let him stay in that dive, but now I can't look at him, worried he's taking this for something it's not.

Retrieving my phone from the safe, I'm happy to find a message from Angela.

" _Worried here. Can't stop thinking about you and this guy. 1) If he is so good in bed, then women are/were teaching him. HOW MANY WOMEN? You're too nice to end up as a notch on a cowboy's bedpost. 2) Find out why he is SINGLE!"_

I shake my head and grin at the screen. Ang can't do anything without making a list, even in a text message. "We'll weigh up the good and the bad," she would say, laptop on her knee, spreadsheet open and ready. Sometimes, there would be a scale of one to ten to contend with. I was never much interested in math, but I understood enough to see a low score meant the end was coming for Jake and me.

Reading the message again, I wonder if the right moment will present itself to ask question number one. Knowing Edward, it won't be long before he brings the conversation back to this relationship he thinks we're going to have.

He's already spoken of girlfriend problems caused by travelling for work, so I believe I know the answer to number two. It's very familiar to me.

When I look up, he's gone. He's not on the deck and I can still see our towels where we left them. Suddenly, he approaches with two sets of masks and snorkels.

"I figured you wouldn't be so jumpy if you could see what's under the surface. I rented them for a few days."

"Good thinking." I smile, and not because he's clever. I like how thoughtful he is. My natural tendency would be to thank him by kissing his cheek, but that would put me in contact with the beard.

 _I can't even think about it. He'll know, and then use it against me._

"You live a long way from the coast. Do you snorkel in rivers in Montana?" I ask as we're adjusting our gear, standing waist-deep in the ocean.

"No, I'm not a big fan of muddy water and catfish. Alice and Jasper were married at a place called Kona on the big island of Hawaii, and we all stayed there for a week. There were rays and dolphins in front of the hotel and they had boat tours much like the one we took yesterday. Kealakekua Bay was close by and we did a lot of snorkeling there."

"Ah. That must have been a great wedding."

"I still can't believe you jumped in the water with that camera and no idea how to snorkel."

"I thought Marcus would make sure we knew how!"

He puts his hands up. "Now don't go gettin' your pigtails in a twist. I was impressed, that's all. You're a determined little thing aren't you?"

"Stubborn, more likely," I respond with a shrug.

"So you never spent a vacation at the beach?"

I snort at this question. "Our house was twelve miles from the ocean. I spent a lot of time at the beach."

With a frown, he asks, "And you never learned to snorkel?"

"No, I didn't. The water is fifty degrees in the summer. We took extra towels, sweaters, a blanket, and an umbrella for a day at the beach."

He laughs. "Well, I did hear Washington State has the highest rainfall in the country."

"Not the entire state, just the coastal region west of the Cascade Mountains. They record 200 inches annually there, but the leeward side is much drier. Overall, Washington's rainfall is only slightly above average."

"You know something about this?" I shrug and he raises his eyebrows. "What did you study in college?"

Dropping my shoulders, I knew at some point he'd ask about my background. "I didn't go away to college. I took a job as an assistant park ranger for the Olympic National Park."

Edward's surprise turns into a grin, but he doesn't comment.

"Our town was right next to the national park so we grew up hiking and camping there. My dad loves fishing and he used to take me to all his secret spots. Mom always says he turned me into a tomboy, but I was his only child and that's what he enjoyed doing.

"I knew enough at fifteen to get a part-time job at the local camping supply store, selling equipment and giving out advice."

 _That's where I had my first crush…on that young park ranger. Every time he'd come in, I'd stumble over my words and drop things. Something about his facial hair got me all hot and bothered, and I never understood why._

"When I graduated high school, my friends left for college and careers that didn't interest me. Dad is the local police chief and he'd worked with the rangers quite a bit, so he suggested the Park Ranger Service. The minimum entry course was online—seven self-paced units that sounded easy, but it was way more involved than I thought. A real career as a ranger required an associate degree.

"Anyway, his connections and my decent marks got me the job, and I enrolled in a degree in wildlife law enforcement.

"They assigned me to someone I'd known for a while. Peter's wife, Charlotte, was the local hairdresser and he'd started out as a Junior Ranger, like me. He trained me in my new duties: advising campers of their legal obligations in the park, investigating stolen property and vehicles, reporting suspected arsonists, identifying people living illegally in the forest, finding missing hikers, responding to complaints about bears."

Edward's eyes light up. "Any bear attacks? I've never seen a bear in the wild."

"No, there's never been a bear attack on a human there," I say with a certain amount of pride. "You should be more scared of mountain goats. They can kill you."

"Really?" he asks, looking shocked.

I nod, realizing we've both sunk down in the water, still holding our floating gear. This is, by far, the longest conversation I've ever had with Edward.

"Well, go on," he urges. "How does a park ranger become a photographer?"

"It's a long story." I look at him, wishing he'd asked anything else when the tears entwined with these memories choose this moment to appear. Luckily, submerging in the ocean does a great job of hiding them.

"Bella." Edward frowns and moves his hand toward me. I almost reach out to take hold of it, but I give him a smile instead, putting on my mask and swimming away.

The sun in the water is wonderful and the culprits who may have nipped me are everywhere, eyeing me through my mask as they dart past. There's nothing but joy in the antics of these fish, and by the time I get out, I'm happy again. Drying myself, I realize I'm unwinding, mainly because Edward is an easy companion. He does tend to lead, but he offers things I like, so I no longer find him as controlling as before.

I know he has no intention of becoming my friend, but he would make a great friend. He grows on me more each day.

As I'm taking pictures of a sailboarder, Edward stands and roars, holding up a fish in his hand. Laughing, I take photo after photo. He lets his squirming prize go and pulls off his mask, falling back in the water. I'm smiling when he rises with his hair slicked back and I'm ogling when he comes toward me with that graceful gait of his.

 _Just look at him. With that scruff, he's perfection. He's free, and for some reason he wants me. How many opportunities am I going to get with someone like him who's single?_

He holds his hand up to shield the sun from his face. "Are you finished?" I didn't realize I'd adopted a stance with my feet apart, treating this like a real shoot.

"Sorry," I answer, knowing I got lost there for a while. "I did say before you are very photogenic."

"The word you used was seductive. You said I was seductive through the lens."

"Did I?" I know damn well that's exactly what I said and it's just as true today as it was then.

"What did you do with our other photos, Bella?" I gulp, guessing what he's referring to. "The ones we took in private. Do you still have them?"

"...yes."

"You didn't delete them?"

"No."

"Okay," he says, seemingly satisfied. He lies down on his back, covering his face with his hat.

"Are you going to sleep?"

Lifting the hat, he answers. "Why, what are you offerin'?"

"Uh…nothing."

"You're not gonna tell me the rest of your story?"

I consider it, but shake my head. "I'm in a good mood now. Let's not spoil it."

"Well, how about we go to the ruins before sunset so you can take your photos."

"Aren't we going there tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrow is Coba."

Coba is the other archeological site—older and less well preserved—further away in the jungle. "Oh, well okay. Yes, I want to see that, too."

"There's an interesting Italian restaurant on the way back. May I take you to dinner?"

I love being asked like this and I can't help but melt a little and smile. "We have to eat."

"Yes, we do," he adds, returning the smile, and placing the hat back down on his face.

Content to laze around, I scan through the photos I've taken. There are too many, but I cannot delete anything based on the screen view on the back of the camera. Zooming in, the close-ups look incredible and the blond in that beard... The others highlight his long legs and the way he places one foot in front of the other, even on sand.

 _Jesus._

We don't hear anything from Rose and Emmett all day. Edwards says they need time alone, and I resist the urge to ask why.

* * *

"You know, I swear that iguana is posing for the camera." The lizard holds its head at an arrogant angle. It has no fear of us.

"Camera hog." Edward chuckles, with his arms folded over his chest, before walking away to look at the sea.

"This was such a good idea." I follow him down to the beach below the Tulum Ruins when I've taken enough photos to satisfy me. The late afternoon light couldn't have been more moody—infinitely better than the glaring sun at eight o'clock in the morning. Edward has been my model for many of the shots in his soft blue jeans and t-shirt that says, "CHILL." It perfectly describes the day we've had.

The only thing we really had to do was to get some laundry done, and the hotel took it happily, promising to have it back to us the following day.

I was amazed when Edward pulled out the same tan-colored leather Chuck Taylors as I brought with me, and I laughed when I found out he calls them "tennies". Of course, his look twice the size of mine.

Strolling down the beach after removing our tennies, we find a bar, right on the sand, with people sitting on swings and drinking. "Oh, please can we check that out?" I ask, hopefully. "What time is our reservation?"

"Plenty of time," he answers, casually. "Anyway, we can call them. If they won't hold the table, there will be other nights."

This attitude is so refreshing. Jake was a stickler for arriving everywhere on time, reluctant to call a restaurant to say we'd be delayed or, heaven forbid, canceling a reservation. If we were ever caught in traffic and running late, his behavior would border on road rage and spoil the evening.

Tonight I'm out with an easygoing man, enjoying the feel of cool sand under my feet, at the most chilled-out bar in the world.

He picks up a cocktails menu and hands me one. "Can I buy you a drink?" The smooth Dior Man voice no longer makes me nervous.

"No," I answer, surprising him for a second. "I'd like to buy you one."

"Okay," he replies with a slightly raised eyebrow. "I'll have a Chaca, please."

"Hmm. Tequila, ginger beer, spices and lime. That does sound good. What is Chartreuse?" I ask the bartender.

"It's a herbal liqueur, very sweet, a bit like Galliano without the bite. They say it's supposed to be good for you."

"I'll have a Lone Palm then. Thank you."

With our two beautifully crafted drinks, we look around for somewhere to sit. There's a single swing available at the bar, and one double facing the ocean. I scan the vacant chairs outside on the sand but my eyes keep coming back to the swing.

"We can share," he offers and waits. There's no smirk, no obvious intention.

 _It's just a swing, Bella._

"Sure," I reply, and he stands patiently while I find a place for my camera bag. We sit down together, and I laugh when I spill my drink. He wraps his arm around my back and holds onto the rope. It stabilizes us, so I do the same. Then he gently rocks us back and forth with his long legs outstretched.

"How's that?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"Perfect." I'm wearing a genuine smile, not caring we have our arms around each other. I feel more secure and happy than I've felt in a long time. With a deep breath, I'm taking in the last of the day when a familiar sadness comes over me. Sunset has always reminded me that things come to an end, but I refuse to ruin this beautiful moment. "It's restful here."

"It is," he says. "You chose a great place for a vacation."

My heart knows the reason I'm enjoying this so much and I touch my cheek to his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, Edward." When he leans his head on mine, I'm whole again for a while, part of something I wish we could continue.

* * *

Another cocktail, a bottle of wine with dinner, and I'm starting to feel weary. We had considered staying where we were to eat, but the atmosphere changed when the bar filled with loud thirsty people, ready to party.

I'm glad we moved because the food has been delicious. I've also found out more about Edward. He currently lives in a town called Billings in Southern Montana, 160 miles south of the family farm. He usually has two or three work projects going at a time, and the one currently under construction has become such a nuisance he's been on site several times in the last week, arguing that saving a few thousand dollars now is going to cost big over time. The owners and their builder are coming up with ways to shave money off the price, and Edward will not compromise his design.

"The back of the house wraps around a central courtyard with louvers that open in winter and close in summer. The walls are thickly insulated to keep the inside temperature stable, but now they've gone off the courtyard idea and want more internal room with a huge glass wall across the back."

"Is there a view? Why all the glass?"

"No, there's no view. It was supposed to be garden, but now they've decided they want a pool for the kids."

"And why is that bad?"

"Their sons are already fourteen and sixteen, so how much longer will they be around to use the pool? It costs a lot to filter and heat that volume of water, even with a solar system, not to mention the extra heating charges for the interior of the house."

"Won't the pool add money to the home when they sell it?"

"Maybe, if the buyer _wants_ a pool, but that's not the point. Why pay for an architect and not follow the design?"

I have to smile because I like this passionate side of Edward and I would love to hear him argue on site. He may be a little too convinced that his is the only way, but I understand it. It does feel like a personal slight when someone employs me to do something artistic and abandons my vision along the way.

By the time we reach my hotel (I guess I have to think of it as _our_ hotel now) he's back to his usual chilled out self. After dusting the sand off our feet, I unlock the door, head for the drawer where I keep my pajamas, and go to the bathroom to change. After quickly brushing my teeth, I gasp when I come out to find his bare ass in front of me.

"Jesus, Edward," I whisper as I turn away.

He responds with a snort, somewhere behind me.

I turn as he passes me on his way to the bathroom, wearing boxer briefs. "Is that all you are wearing to bed?"

"I usually sleep naked, so this is me being a good friend."

Damn. I can't really argue against that. As I listen to him brushing his teeth, I check the door's locked and our phones are charging. Climbing into bed, I'm nervous all of a sudden.

 _I've invited a man to share my room and my bed. What the hell am I doing?_

The light goes out in the bathroom. "Do I need to lock up?" he asks.

"Done it," I answer.

"Do you want anything? Water?"

"Two bottles in here already. We're good."

I watch him part the curtains and peer out before he turns off the light. It's hard to see until my eyes adjust, but he soon finds his way in through the net. Lying on his back, he groans. "This bed is really somethin'."

"Still think the room is basic, Edward?"

"Oh…Did I offend you when I made that comment?"

"A little. I chose this room very carefully."

"I can see that. It has the right kind of luxury."

"That's exactly what I thought. It's a shame Rose and Emmett aren't staying here." I feel the vibration before I realize he's laughing. "What's funny?"

"There's no way Rose would book this."

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Not a thing. Look, I love Rose but she's nothing like you. A room without a hair dryer or fridge or TV or air conditioning? Never gonna happen. She's not my type. We'd kill each other."

I might not get a better chance than this one to ask him. "How do you know your type?"

"What? I just do."

"What I mean is…have you been with a lot of women?"

He rolls on his side to face me. "I've been asked this question many times."

"I'll bet."

"I'm clean, Bella, if that's what you're asking. I had the tests done when I broke up with Tanya."

 _Oh God, is he trying to shock me? How can he come out with something like that without any hint of embarrassment? Now he has a real live ex with a name, and I don't want to know anything about their sex life. I'm sorry I asked._

"I mean, you've been separated for a while, right? You've been tested?"

 _I never told a soul when I went to my doctor for tests after Jake left. Do I really have to answer this question?_

Mustering every bit of courage I have, I force myself to respond as if I'm more worldly than I actually am. "Of course I have. I've never had an STD."

"Okay, I'm glad we got that out of the way."

"Ugh, can we please change the subject?"

"Well, you said you wanted to know about the women." He chuckles. "Actually, I was late to the party. Our high school was small and, while I was aware of the physical changes in the girls I grew up with, I just couldn't. From what I heard, it sounded like a whole lot of embarrassment anyway.

"So, I was a virgin when I left for college, suddenly surrounded by hot-blooded women, and…I found out a woman coming back for more was irresistible."

"So... you made sure they enjoyed it."

"Good sex is important and I don't bother pursuing a woman who's not attracted to me."

I snort. "That didn't put you off for a second with me."

A smirk creeps over his face. "You might have said you weren't interested, but I saw the way you looked at me. I still do."

I have to hide my sudden intake of breath. "It doesn't mean I'm ever going to act on it, Edward."

He shakes his head slightly, then turns away from me. "So, at some point I'll lose interest, won't I."

I stare at his back for a while, hearing the finality in his words, and need to give him my perspective.

"I should never have slept with you in Montana. That's no way to start a relationship."

He turns back to face me. "Did you think I was lyin' when I said I wanted to see you again?"

"I don't know. I always thought you were supposed to get to know each other before you jump into bed. Shouldn't affection and respect lead to sex?"

"You didn't feel my affection and respect?"

"Uh…" He _was_ very affectionate and sweet once we stopped butting heads and got on with the shoot. By the end of the day, he'd completely won me over.

"A close physical connection is the core of a strong relationship. It makes everything easier. There are always going to be frustrations in life, and two people in love can find ways to communicate without words.

 _Love_?

"I might smack you on the ass or you might hit me upside the head or punch my arm. I see couples doing it all the time. It doesn't mean they're fightin', more like they're using affection as a release.

"Rumblin' is good, too, you know—pretending to wrestle. You can let off a whole lotta steam and end up laughing and making out. If somethin' is real important, there's nothin' like make-up sex after a good hollerin' match to clear the air.

"Unfortunately, I tend to let things out as they happen. Sometimes that makes me sound like an asshole, but I don't like to let things stew, because they join up with other ideas in the brain and grow into somethin' dark. However, I am trying to work on my behavior, by walking away and clearing my head, rather than sayin' somethin' I'll regret."

"I've been known to bottle things up, and I think your way is better."

"If you're in for the long run, I think it is."

"Is that what you want—the long run? Do you think you're ready for that kind of commitment?"

"Yeah, I know I'm ready. I want a family, but I've failed in the past by compromising on major stuff. Deep down, you have to be alike, have a similar ideology."

"I agree. You do need that base, but surely your ideology develops over time, maybe even a lifetime. People change."

"Do you really believe that, Bella?"

"You just said you are trying to modify your behavior."

He laughs. "I'm trying to control how I outwardly display myself in public. I cannot conduct a business if I actually go through with choking the idiot making a costly mistake that ends up with my name on it."

I join him and belly laugh, easily imagining him with his hands around someone's throat. I know that exact feeling and blurt out words before I think.

"I would have murdered Jake if he'd come on this vacation."

"Why?" he asks, his laughter slowing.

"Because he likes his time with the men folk, watching sports and drinking beer. He'd be holed up in some bar and I'd be off seeing the place on my own. Jake would have hated the idea of lying around at the beach and doing nothing, whereas you can unwind and even sleep. You're a much better companion."

"By sleeping?" he asks, quite surprised.

"By just hanging out and relaxing. You're easy to be with."

"Maybe I'm watching and waiting for you to let your guard down so I can pounce."

Annoyed with him, I punch his chest gently. _Jesus, it's harder than I remember._ "Why do you say things like that?"

He laughs. "Just to get a rise out of you. See? This is exactly what I was talkin' about."

"Please stop it. I'm trying to tell you something. I like you, and if things were different, you would be exactly the kind of person I'd want a relationship with, but they're not. Starting this now is doomed to fail when you're going back to Montana and I'll be in Seattle." He tries to interrupt, but I touch a finger to his lips. "It would destroy me to fall in love and never see you again, so it's better if we just stay friends. We can't hurt each other that way."

"Friends," he confirms, watching me closely.

"Yes."

He snorts. "This is from the woman who was curled around me like a roly-poly last night."

Glaring at him, I'm angry he's using a cheap shot I cannot defend. "That doesn't count. I was unconscious."

His eyebrows rise as if he's challenging me. "Well dreamy Bella had a smile on her face when she moaned out my name. Maybe your subconscious is tellin' you somethin' different."

"Ugh." I turn away from him, knowing I can't win. "Go to sleep. We have to get up early in the morning."

"Hey, Bella?"

"Yes, Edward."

"Thanks for a great day."

"Yeah, it was a great day." I smile to myself because it _was_ great, one of the best days I can remember in ages.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Muchas Gracias for all the reviews this week! I love hearing from you!**_

 _ **Thank you for the support from the FicWhisperer Recommends, the Lemonade Stand and to Iris. You all never miss to broadcast an update, and I really do appreciate it.**_

 _ **If you haven't realized already, I have four fantastic women helping me knock this into shape every week. So many thanks to Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 7**_

Not to be outdone this morning, I fold a towel and find a spot at the end of the deck for my ten-minute stretch and strengthen yoga routine.

Edward is not the only one who likes to stay strong.

His push-ups are controlled and slow, his body held a certain way, not unlike my own movements. Mine have more variety, but we soon find ourselves watching each other. By the time I start my down dogs, he's stretching. When I finish with a head clearing child's pose, he's unashamedly staring.

Instead of feeling self-conscious, I smile confidently and slowly stand.

"I wouldn't mind trying that," he comments. "You make it look easy."

"It is easy." _Yeah, now it is._ _He'd have no idea how much I used to shake, holding a position. Before I built up my core strength, the day after a class was agony._

* * *

I chuckle over Edward's gray t-shirt as we wait outside the tourist office. The words, "SAVE FERRIS", make me recall my favorite scenes from the movie.

"What?" he asks when he sees me smirking.

"I love that movie."

His smile is instant and boyish. "It was a one of a kind, like the car—a 1961 Ferrari 250GT California."

It gives me a reason to stare at his chest. I know I was up close and personal last night because I woke up again. He hasn't let on yet, but I imagine he has it stashed in an arsenal of weapons he could pull out at any time, so today I'd better be nice.

Rose and Emmett walk up and I start to laugh at _his_ t-shirt. "IF YOU SEE SOMEONE CRYING, ask if it's because of their haircut."

"You are terrible," I declare and he grins.

Rose goes right up to Edward and examines his jaw. "Oh my gosh, your bites have cleared up already."

"Bella gave me some stuff," he responds with a shrug, but lifts his chin to give her a better look.

"Just aloe vera gel," I add.

"You could have shaved. That beard doesn't suit you."

Without thinking, I stand up for him. "I disagree."

Edward looks at me and Rose flicks her eyes between us, landing on Edward. "Did they move you to a better room?"

"No, they didn't."

"So—you're staying with Bella now?"

"Just as friends, Rose," he answers, still staring at me.

"Okay." She side-eyes him as if she doesn't believe a word of it, but backs down with a knowing smile on her face.

"Coba?" a man interrupts. He and the two women standing nearby step forward to introduce themselves. Stefan and Carmel have thick and unusual accents. I assume they are Mexican, until Rose inquires and they identify Valencia in Spain as their homeland. Maggie is staying at the same hotel as them, tagging along today, and says she's from Essex, England.

None of them has a clue where Montana is, or intends to visit Seattle. They do seem optimistic about today's tour, so I am happy they are joining us—that is until I notice Maggie's eyes on Edward, taking him in from head to toe.

My first instinct is to tell her to stay away from him.

Our driver introduces himself as Alejandro, asking us to call him Ali. He begins with a quick rundown of the day ahead and gives us the same lecture about using biodegradable sunscreen while swimming in the cenotes. Stefan and Carmel were unaware, so our first stop is a supermarket in Tulum's town center where we can pick up supplies. We are running out of insect repellant anyway, and I've only seen the town through the coach windows on the day I arrived, so this suits me fine.

I buy oranges as well as the extra repellant. With a little time to spare, I wander along the street, window-shopping for gifts. A display of jewelry catches my eye, in particular an egg-shaped stone pendant on a silver chain. Its depth is incredible, like seeing colors erupting from each other: red, orange, and yellow—even flecks of green.

"What's a firestone?" Edward asks, leaning down next to me.

"I've never seen one before." The highly polished pebble fascinates me.

"Are we going inside?"

"6,000 pesos?" I answer reluctantly. "I don't think so."

He beckons me into the store. "Let's see how far we can bargain them down before you say no."

"Well…" I have no experience bargaining and I look around for the others, seeing Rose crossing the street.

"Something catch your eye?" She feeds her arm through mine and pulls me into the store.

Inside, there are many more of these stones, and Rose starts reading from a brochure on the counter. "It's a fire agate, a member of the quartz family. The iridescent colors come from thin layers of iron oxide and limonite crystals."

Each one is unique. They store bubbles of colored energy, capturing a moment in prehistoric time.

"They call it the essence of fire. The stones have healing properties. Placed on the abdomen, they are beneficial to hollow organs like the stomach and uterus. Hmm."

"Do you believe that stuff?" I ask, incredulously.

"Honey, at this point, I'll believe in anything if it helps me get pregnant."

"Oh." It's like her giving me a morsel, something I can ask about later, a tiny piece of their puzzle.

"What are we doing, guys?" Edward asks, obviously aware of the time.

"I still like the one in the window best." The salesman follows me outside where I show him the one I've chosen. When I hold it to my chest and see it in the mirror, I know I have to own it, healing properties or not. Rose points to a cheaper, rougher version, not interested in the rock as a piece of jewelry.

From here, Edward takes over. "Señor, we don't have a lot of time, so how about I tell you what I'm prepared to pay and you take it or leave it." The man's eyebrows rise in anticipation. "2,000 pesos—for the two." The response he gets is a laugh while the man shakes his head. "Okay, we gotta go," Edward replies and walks us out. I turn back to look at the salesman who is as dumbfounded as I am. That leaves us with nothing and I'm feeling disheartened until the man comes out after us.

"Okay, 2,000!"

"Excellent," Edward says under his breath, taking his wallet out. "Now we don't have to come back another day."

I grab his arm to stop him. "Excuse me—you're not paying for this."

He takes my hand and wraps it around his arm, holding it in place with his own. "You have a birthday coming up soon, don't you? May I buy you a gift?" I just glare at him and exhale slowly, not wanting to spoil our day with an argument.

When we're finally on the road to Coba, Carmel leans on Stefan and they quietly talk to each other in Spanish. Maggie tries to be engaging, asking questions about where we live and giving us her insights on the differences between America and England.

She laughs and likens her own accent to Edward's, where they both drop the g's from the end of their words. I jump in, stating I don't think it's a specific accent; more that he just says some words a certain way and Emmett agrees, saying it's more of a family thing.

"You don't have much of a twang." Maggie observes.

Rose stares at her. "We're country, not southern."

I'm sure I hear a "whatever" coming from Maggie, who gives up on the subject of accents.

On another day in a different environment, I might find Maggie amusing, but today, she's presumptuous and annoying. I understand she's worried about her future when she tells us how bad she thinks it is living in Britain, but hearing her malign her own country doesn't sit well with me.

When she asks how we're going to vote in the upcoming election, Edward drowns her out by putting earbuds in his ears, placing his hat over his face, and leaning back like he's going to sleep. Emmett groans and asks her to change the subject. It does the trick. She shuts up after that.

The Coba ruins are vast compared to Tulum. This is a collection of settlements that made up a Mayan city, with much still unexcavated and closed to the public. I imagine someone discovering it like a scene from _Indiana Jones_. Without Ali, we would have struggled to understand what we _can_ see since much of the detail is worn away.

We rent bikes and ride along the original "white roads" that connect parts of the city. Thankfully, they are shaded, a blessing in the extreme humidity.

When we eventually see the Coba Pyramid, its height amazes me. As we get closer, I wonder if I can make it all the way up in this heat. A sign saying "CLIMB AT YOUR OWN RISK" makes our minds up, suggesting we might never get another opportunity, so we take the huge steps one step at a time. Carmen stays with me all the way, and we stop a few times to get our breath before reaching the summit.

We're all raving over the 360-degree view of the jungle when I see Edward stumble as if he's lost his balance.

"You okay?" I ask, rushing over to him and lifting his pack off his shoulder. There are no safety railings up here.

"I think I just got my first taste of vertigo," he answers, taking his hat off and fanning his face. I rub his back, worried about him.

I have a few "whoa" moments myself when the descent is made worse by the overwhelming sense of height. At least there is a rope on the stairs and Edward uses it just as much as I do.

Once we're all down, I get my oranges out and offer them around. Maggie takes one and peels the skin, throwing it into the scrub. Before I can get on my high horse, Edward protests with a "Don't do that!"

"It's just fruit. Something will come along and eat it."

"Maggie, you leave no trace. Do you want me to go get it?"

She hesitates for a second and I can't help smiling when she trudges in to search for the pieces. I offer her my plastic bag, thankful there's someone else here fighting on my side. Edward just showed me we might be more alike than I thought.

We're all ready for a swim and the Multum Ha Cenote is only a short drive away. Maggie gets into the van first and Edward takes another seat, tapping it for me to sit with him.

Ali assures me I will be sorry if I don't take my camera, offering to hold it when I go in the water. Leaving everything else in the van, we have to shower before we can swim.

Maggie is doing it again—checking out Edward in board shorts while she showers in the skimpiest swimsuit I've ever seen. She draws everyone's attention by constantly adjusting it.

We descend via a spiral staircase, deep into the earth, passing a group on their way up. Artificial lighting lasts until a short limestone tunnel, where we emerge, the only people here, and look at each other, spellbound by the massive cave. The hole in the distance lets in enough sun to bathe everything in ethereal light. A big timber deck and viewing platform has the only access to jump in since there are no ledges on the steep walls.

"Wow." Edward comes up behind me, pointing upwards. "See the bats up there?" His voice is deeper, it's timbre altered by the chamber. I feel it resonate in his chest against me.

"We stay only thirty minutes." We all turn and look at Ali to elaborate. "Oxygen is low."

I take photos of bats hanging from a ceiling that reminds me of meringue. The walls are layers of different colors from gold to white, but it's the water that draws me in. When it's so still and clear, every rock on the bottom is visible—impossible to estimate its depth. It feels like a sin to break the surface and mar its untouched beauty.

"Let's go!" Maggie is the first to leap in—her microscopic bikini dislodged by the impact. As she laughs and fixes it, Rose rolls her eyes at me. The others follow and I hang back, taking photos of their expressions as they come up smiling, revitalized by the water. Everyone is quiet and I hope they sense this is a sacred place that deserves their respect.

When I see Maggie paddling around Edward, I lose interest in taking photos, and hand the camera to Ali, thanking him for bringing us here. Edward greets me with the biggest smile, pulling me toward him. The water is everything I hoped it would be: cool, clear and invigorating.

After a late lunch at a local hotel, we're back on the road to Tulum and soon arrive at the Grand Cenote, one of the reasons I chose to come to the Quintana Roo region of Mexico. This is not a single cenote, but several caves you can swim between.

They won't rent us buoyancy vests and lockers until after we've showered. I'm glad we have our masks and snorkels from the hotel, and I thank Edward for his forward thinking. He bumps me, saying he likes my rash guard, and I smile back. There are a few others here wearing them, giving me hope they _can_ protect these ecosystems so I might bring my children back one day.

Squealing when I see people milling around at the top, we join them and look down on the huge sinkhole open to the sky. All around its edges, vines hang down to the bluest pool I've ever seen. We're not going down there with the crowds, however. Ali has given us a better alternative—enter from one of the smaller caves and swim in.

Many steps later, Edward and I grin at each other when we find a cave with the palest of blue water. He's helping me with my buoyancy vest when Maggie leans down and says, "I don't like the look of that. Why did we come here?"

"Did you listen to Ali?" Emmett sounds angry. "Most of the caves have low ceilings like this."

"Which ones don't?"

"Have a look around. See for yourself," he mumbles, fixing his face mask and snorkel in place and swimming off with his wife.

Maggie is not our problem, but for some reason, Edward feels sorry for her. "Come with us. It's not as low as it looks." Six of us _are_ already in the water, I suppose. With just a few words, she trusts him implicitly, getting her gear on in a flash and swimming out to us.

 _Wonderful_.

There are multitudes of fish everywhere and tiny turtles that cling to one area of the cave like their own personal sanctuary. Lights from scuba divers reveal a dark underworld, bats navigate the ceiling without crashing into stalactites, and we experience the thrill of coming out into the central cenote where people are jumping in from up high.

I try not to let Maggie ruin my afternoon while she continues to hover around Edward. Finding a spot where I can stand in the water, I'm watching them when Rose comes up behind me.

"She's nobody, Bella."

"Who?"

Rose puts her arm around me. "She's just a lonely girl." I sigh. There's no point in denying what must be clearly written on my face.

Emmett joins us. "What an amazing place."

Edward is now approaching as well, followed by his puppy. "Everything all right?" he asks.

Rose answers. "Everything's fine. Bella and I were just saying we're gonna let loose tonight. Gitano... please?"

"Sounds great," Edward replies, looking directly at me.

"It does," Maggie chips in. "I might join you."

As Rose squeezes my shoulder, there's not a thing I can do but smile.

* * *

Coming back to the hotel, we find our clean clothes folded on the bed. They've even hung some in the closet.

 _Yet another reason to recommend this place._

"Good one." Edward picks up his clothes and puts them away. "Now I don't have to wear those old jeans again. I didn't bring that much with me."

"Neither did I. I hate heavy suitcases."

"Yeah, well you've seen my bag. If it doesn't fit in there, it doesn't come with me."

"Do you travel a lot for work?"

"It varies, depending on the size of the job and how much engineering is involved. I like to stick around until the completion of the concept and present it. The design work I can do anywhere, and I try to regularly visit the build, but some of these residential jobs are a pain in the ass. The money's not there for the amount of stress involved."

"So, do you see yourself ever laying down roots?"

"Why? Are you gonna come and join me?" he asks with a grin.

I glare at him. "I was just interested. That's all."

"I'm always looking for the right piece of land."

Picking up my own things, I pack them away. "So you're going to build."

"Yeah."

"What kind of house does an architect want for himself?"

"Let's just say I'm still in the ideas stage. It really depends on the terrain."

"Your parents' home is incredible."

With a soft smile, he responds. "Thank you. If you know the Ferris Bueller movie, you'll see where I got my inspiration. Long and rectangular."

I do remember that house and the glass garage. "Oh, wow."

"I drew the first sketch when I was nineteen." He snorts. "Took me a year to come up with a real design and another to convince them to take me on. I was working for a firm in Bozeman when the build started, driving two-hundred miles back every weekend."

"Is that when you bought the Mustang?"

"No, I drove a Ford Focus pickup in those days."

"Brrm, brrm," I remark with a giggle.

He rolls his eyes and continues. "And I now have a Mazda CX5. The Mustang is a passion, Bella, a vice I can't give up. I love driving it but it guzzles too much gas as an everyday car. Hey, you didn't answer my question yesterday. Why did you change careers?"

I consider my answer, knowing I can't put him off forever, and there are good parts to my story I can readily share. "I've taken photos for as long as I can remember, but I got lucky and won a competition. The prize was a scholarship to a photographic school in Seattle."

"Ah, so that's how you ended up in the city. How long ago was this?"

"Four years."

I watch a slight frown form on his face. "So, you have two degrees."

"No, I have an Associate of Applied Arts. I didn't finish the first one."

"So—that's part of the long story?" He just looks at me, staring, waiting for me to explain.

"We really need to get ready if we're going to make dinner."

I see his sigh. "Okay. You can have first shower."

Relieved his questions are over, I take everything I need in with me. With a smile, I say, "I won't be long."

"Take as long as you need."

When I look at myself in the mirror, I can't help thinking what he just said has a double meaning, but I'm still not ready to lay myself bare to someone I've only known for a week.

* * *

Rose looks pretty in a new dress she bought yesterday. Emmett is relaxed this evening and not trying too hard in a plain blue shirt. Edward…well he looks unbelievable in a brown button down and dark jeans.

He's wearing Dior again. I watched him put a tiny drop each side of his neck and had to hold myself back from sniffing him.

When he insisted on helping me with my new necklace, we were both smiling at each other in the mirror. "Gorgeous," he said with his hands on my shoulders. "And that's another beautiful dress."

"Thank you," I replied, certain he must have seen me blush.

Now we're at Gitano, it's taken me three shots of mezcal to finally mellow out and laugh a little. I've been preoccupied, watching for Maggie to walk in. Instead of enjoying the atmosphere of this beautiful restaurant, I've been letting a slutty little princess spoil my night when the three people I'm with are the best company I could hope for.

Rose likes the way my ochre colored dress highlights the firestone. She asks if Edward and I planned to wear matching earthy colors tonight and insists on borrowing my camera to take our photo. I'm so relaxed, I agree and even smile for the picture.

"See that palm tree?" I turn around to see what she's pointing at. "Is that? What is that?" An up light illuminates the trunk, and I stare, trying to work out what I'm looking at.

"It's a dick, baby, a very big dick." Emmett bites her neck gently.

"Oh, my, God. It _is_ a dick." I burst out laughing, unable to take my eyes off the enormous appendage protruding from the trunk.

Emmett leans forward with a glint in his eye. "In the next few days, it will bulge and break through the skin... releasing a profusion... of creamy…"

"Stop!" Rose slaps him on the arm but he keeps going.

"... bulbous… flowers. Hard to tell if they are male or female, but only the females will bear fruit. Actually," he adds, rubbing his jaw. "You _can_ have male and female flowers on the one plant in some species."

Rose grabs his face and kisses him soundly. He flings his arms out in surprise.

"You love me don't you." His voice caresses her when she releases him and I totally melt when I see his smile.

"Yes, but I want you to be quiet now. We don't need a lecture on pollination."

"You brought it up," he adds, wrapping his arm around her. As he kisses her cheek, she puts her hand up and asks if we want another shot.

We all nod and Edward leans against me. "I've missed you guys."

Rose's frown is so sweet when she touches his arm. "Oh, we've missed you, too."

They're quiet for a while and I take the opportunity to revisit her comment from this morning. "So you're trying for a baby?" Emmett looks down, making me regret asking the question.

Very quietly, Rose answers. "We're trying to stay positive, but I should be pregnant by now. If we'd only had analysis done years ago, we would have known the cause, and now I'm twenty-nine. I'm starting to get old."

Rose is the same age as Edward. "No, you're not. Twenty-nine is not old."

She sighs before she responds. "I have a hormonal imbalance that causes infertility. My blood tests show they've resolved the problem, but we still haven't conceived. On top of that, we've had to endure Esme's lectures about accepting God's will. Seriously?" She screws up her face. "It's none of her goddamn business."

The next round of shots arrives and Rose holds hers up for a toast. "Well, I'm breakin' all the rules on this vacation, so you never know. Maybe we'll have a baby called Mexico."

"To Mexico." Edward holds up his glass and we clink them together. Even Emmett cracks a smile.

We finish dinner as the band is starting. Their sound is ethnic, energizing, and completely different from the mariachi bands I've heard around Tulum. When a violin is played with so much speed and passion, I cannot stop smiling.

I know I should feel drunk, but this smoky mezcal doesn't seem to affect me the same way as other alcohol. I did eat, but not to excess, and I feel good now, instead of bloated and weary.

It's late when Emmett has to wake Rose who's fallen asleep in his lap, and we bid them farewell at their hotel. I'm not at all tired, wandering ahead, drawn to the sound of tinkling piano notes dancing through a deep pounding bass, and flutes that seem to soar, like they're calling to the spirits.

All my senses are clear, heightened and sharp, when I enter a human jungle of people talking and laughing. Some of them dance around a DJ, and I'm fascinated, watching him fiddle with a board of knobs and mixers and a laptop to the side. I want to understand what he hears when he lifts his headphones to his ears, but I can't pick the subtle changes in the sound.

I move down the stairs into a world I have never inhabited, and yet I sense its attraction. It has a physicality, a pulse connecting the mortals who move to its drumbeat.

Females dance on their own, loose and trancelike, lit by the tiny lights from Mexican star lanterns. With their eyes closed, they are unaware of the males standing and watching.

Sexuality is everywhere, unapologetically open and untamed. A man has his hands on a woman he pins to the trunk of a palm tree. Their kissing is wildly sensual, and when she grabs a chunk of his hair, I feel something raw knot up inside me, and I have to turn away.

Where is Edward? Did he stop at the bathroom?

Money passes from a man to a woman, payment for the pill she places in his hand. He touches her arm and leaves, unscrewing the top of his bottle of water. Everyone else is drinking a pale green liquid from clear plastic cups.

I want to capture this mood so I'll never forget it, but I can't start taking photos in the middle of a crowd. To do that, I move into the dark and disappear. From my peripheral vision, I finally see Edward, unmistakable, silhouetted against the lights of the bar behind him. What a lithe creature he is, searching like a panther on the prowl.

The photos I take are experimental, capturing him as a dark specter moving past the sharply focused bottles of the bar. I'm just about to call him over when I see Maggie staring at me. She must have been watching, hoping he's here somewhere.

When Edward appears on the upper level, running a hand through his hair, she goes up to him. I hate her, hate watching her giggle and offer herself to him, hate seeing her assume he's hers. I even hate myself for remembering Angela's words about the camera never lying when I use it to zoom in and record what goes down.

Suddenly, Maggie smiles as she pulls on his hand, and I have to look away. My heart is pounding so hard, I cringe against the wall, screaming "NO!" in my head. The emotion rushes up my throat and fills my eyes with tears. When I get up the courage to turn back, they're gone and what I just witnessed makes perfect sense. He's a man who came here with thirty-six condoms and I've offered him nothing to quench his sexual thirst. I'm just a friend.

Pulling myself together, I stumble out of the dark and find a counter-height table where I can delete the offending shots I just took, knowing they will haunt me forever. My shaky finger is poised to delete when I smell him. It's not the Dior he wears, but the way it mingles with his own unique scent. A hand appears on the table, a strong arm and chest leaning against my back. He presses his nose into my hair, then lowers his head to the side of mine.

"Where did you go?" he asks, with a long drawn out sigh.

My eyes close as his scent overwhelms me, and I lean back, starving for the feel of his strength.

"Nowhere."

"You scared me."

"Well, _you_ scared me."

"How did I do that?"

"I thought I saw you leaving with Maggie, to—you know. She's been throwing herself at you all day."

His other hand rests on the table, enclosing me completely. "Now why would I go anywhere else and miss my favorite part of the day?"

"Which is?"

"When you're asleep… and you're mine."

I turn my face to him, letting my fingers finally touch the beard. Maybe it's the mezcal, or the fact that I believed I just lost him. I know it has everything to do with the words he just said. I may live to regret this, but I can't think of a reason to keep denying the way I feel about this beautiful man. Pulling him close, I touch my lips gently to his.

When he deepens the kiss, his whiskers brush my cheek.

And suddenly, what I really want is crystal clear.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**It's Ipsita Chaudhuri's birthday today and I want to wish her all the best! Happy Birthday, Sis!**_

 _ **Everyone in the Harvestward Team has had to weather their share of physical and mental challenges lately. I can only give my undying thanks that you wonderful women still make time for me and this story. Thank you Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo for your friendship, help and encouragement.**_

 _ **Reviews - well, I didn't reply to everyone this week. If you just send me a smile or a single word, I do read it and am very glad to know you're there, but I probably won't respond - sorry.**_

 _ **Anyway, you're not interested in my author's note. You want to know what happens next.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 8**_

With his chest pressed into my back, Edward holds my jaw lightly, tilting it up to his kiss. It's soft and wet—so erotic my eyes fall shut. I thought I remembered the feel of his hunger but, like a photograph, a memory can't capture the entire essence of a moment. I must remember this highly charged atmosphere and his wild eyes when he spins me around and envelops me in physical desire.

The drum beat thumps in my chest, echoing my heart pounding against him. My fingers run through his soft head of hair, but it's the beard that's driving me crazy. Now I've finally touched it, I can't stay away.

I moan over the smell of him, the taste of his tongue, the ardent pressure of his hands on my back, but he finds his way under my dress and squeezes my ass, and a nervous glance reveals others are staring. We're now _that_ couple; the one I was watching when I first walked in here.

"No." I move his hands away and take a breathless step back. He's dazed, breathing just as heavy, but he's wrong if he thinks I'm a girl who lets strangers see me doing private things in public. My mother taught me to respect myself more than that. "I want to go back to the room."

He sighs and follows me down to the sand. "Please tell me I didn't just take advantage of you."

I turn around, playfully, not really blaming him for getting carried away. "I think I kissed you first."

"Why did you? What changed?"

Stopping in front of him, I repeat what I said. "I thought you'd left with Maggie." Shaking his head slowly, he seems a little put out by my answer. "Look, I still feel like this is crazy when I just got divorced, but the reasons to like you keep mounting up."

He smiles and rests his hands on my hips. "They do, don't they." A dreamy look crosses his face and he takes the firestone in his fingers. "I love seeing you wear something of mine."

"Is that why you insisted on paying for it?" I ask, tenderly pushing his hair back from his forehead.

"It wasn't my motivation at the time, but yeah... possibly. It was somethin', you know? A tiny step forward."

My chest sinks. "I'm sorry I'm so mixed up."

"You'll settle down when you realize how serious I am." He looks like he's going to kiss me again, so I tug on his hand to keep us moving. I want to get us back to our room so we can be alone. "When _is_ your birthday, Bella?"

"Tuesday."

"Oh. We're leaving on Tuesday morning."

"It's not a big deal, Edward. Honestly, it's just the same as any other day."

We walk in silence until we reach our deck, where I sit on a step to brush the sand off my feet. Edward takes his shoes and socks off, leaving his feet clean.

"I'll do that for you," he tells me, more command than offer, taking the soft brush from my hand.

"Okay," I answer, allowing him to move my legs across his lap. No one has ever offered to clean my feet before. I'm mesmerized by the long artistic strokes he uses; his concentration broken only by an occasional glance up to see if I'm enjoying it. I am. He must see how much this is turning me on when our eyes meet.

Abandoning the brush, he uses his hands, expertly massaging, and the sizzle between us reaches new heights. He squeezes my calf while soft kisses explore my lips, testing me. I touch his jaw and moan when I feel his tongue against mine.

His hand is inching up my inner thigh when a group of people appears from the beach. They pass by us and burst into drunken laughter. Edward doesn't seem to register them, but _I_ do, appalled when I hear a male voice say he's coming back this way in a few minutes. Feeling cheap, I push his hand away and shake my head.

"No?" he asks with lines on his forehead.

"No," I confirm. If he really wants a relationship, he's going to have to learn not to grope me in public. "Come inside."

As I unlock the door, he asks, "Do you want to take a shower?"

When there's no "with me" at the end of the question, I'm lost for words, knowing I must be missing something. We showered before we left for dinner.

 _Did he not feel my response to his kisses? Does he not realize I wanted to get him alone? Would I now sound ridiculous saying I love the smell of him just as he is? Would it sound like a cliché?_

Feeling discouraged, I can only answer, "Not really."

After a long exhale, he announces, "Well, I need one." He rushes through the door before me, taking a pair of boxer briefs into the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind him. Confused, I close the curtains and plug in our phones, then fall into a chair, wondering what happened to all the passion.

 _Going over every minute since he leaned on my back in the bar, it dawns on me that I never actually said I intended to continue back in our room. Based on days of me saying no, he could have easily assumed that I'm not going any further than a few kisses tonight. If I'm right, he's removed himself and conceded, prepared to wait for me to fall asleep and snuggle up to him._

 _His favorite part of the day—Jesus, I'm totally clueless._

The shower is still not running, so maybe I have time to convince him to join me in bed before he washes off his glorious scent.

 _Do I go in there as I am and let him undress me? No, I need to be naked to convey the message I must clearly send. I want him. I want his body again._

Peeling my clothes off, there's no reason to feel nervous. He's already seen every inch of me and told me I'm beautiful, so, taking a deep breath, I open the door.

At first, I don't understand what I'm seeing. He's leaning his arm against the shower wall and the muscles are tense, protruding. His back is the same, like when he's doing push-ups, but his head falls forward, his forehead touching the tiles. Then he looks up and drops the arm, allowing me to see what he's doing with his other hand.

He's masturbating.

Without a hint of embarrassment, he turns to me, looking me over while he continues to stroke his erection, and it might be the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed. The sight draws me into the shower and I add my hand to his, gently at first, harder when his eyes flutter slightly.

"I'm no master of restraint. I…I am gonna explode."

"Shhh," I respond and kiss his neck, taking over and enjoying his groan.

"Oh, God, I need to know what we're doin' here, Bella," he pleads while his hands run down my back and cup my ass.

Letting my fingers explore his balls, I answer. "I've been giving you mixed messages. I don't want to stop. I just don't like making out in public."

"Oh," he remarks with a growing smile. "Really?"

"Yeah, that's all." I look down and slide my hand up his shaft, rubbing my thumb over the head. When I hear his breath quicken, I glance up to find his eyes possessing me. "But in here no one can see."

He takes hold of my jaw and kisses me hungrily. Letting go of his cock, I wrap my arms around his back, wanting all of him against me. The kisses unleash something I've only ever felt with him—an undeniable ache inside me. I whimper and moan, lifting my foot to the wall and wantonly grinding against his erection.

Dragging his lips from mine, he groans. "Yes, use me. Use my body for pleasure."

This _is_ total pleasure—nothing like what we did in that hotel room in Montana. It's burning passion born of hunger and desire, giving in to my natural instincts and taking what I need from him. It's the most primal thing I've ever experienced.

And I love it.

We gradually slide down the wall until he's crouching with his arm supporting my back, and I press my knee to the tiles, grinding myself into oblivion. My fingers run out of control, through his beard and hair, while I smother him with passionate kisses. I can no longer tell if we're kissing with our tongues or our lips, but the sounds he's making spur me on even further.

Then he pulls out of the kiss and we share breaths, just an inch apart. My insides coil tight to the point where I can't keep my eyes open any longer, and when the orgasm explodes, I cry out, shuddering all over him. Then I drop my face to his neck when the waves of ecstasy finally subside.

"Fuck, woman," he announces, hugging me and chuckling.

"I've never done that in my life," I mutter, slightly embarrassed and still panting.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. "Then do not make it the last time." We both start to laugh. "Fucking hell. My legs are on fire."

"Are you okay?" I ask, standing and pulling him up into my arms.

"Yeah, I think so." At first, he doesn't look too sure, but a dazzling smile quickly replaces the moment of uncertainty, and he kisses me while walking me backwards toward the bed. He opens the mosquito net and I climb in, naked in here for the first time. Seeing him go to his bag, I grin that he's finally getting a chance to use his condoms. "It's probably all the climbing and swimming today, or maybe it's the mezcal making me weak, although I don't feel drunk."

"Neither do I. Is that normal?"

"I don't know," he says, coming in through the net. "I've never had mezcal before."

"Lots of firsts tonight, Edward."

"Yeah," he says, moving close to me. With my hands running over his chest and shoulders, I start to sense it again—a craving that won't be quenched. When I pull him down to me, our kisses turn ravenous, tongues thirsting for sustenance, so maybe he feels it too.

I've never felt so sexy. I know it's partly this bed and the way the light filters in through the net, but I also know the man I'm with can take me to Nirvana and leave me floating on a cloud. As he groans with his fingers curling inside me, I feel selfish taking more pleasure when he's already admitted he was ready to explode.

With my hands firmly planted in his hair, I hug his hips with my thighs, enticing him to enter me. He rocks back and sits on his feet, leaning to the side and ripping open a condom wrapper. I watch him eagerly as he rolls it down and our eyes meet.

"You're so fucking hot." A hand roams over me, his thumb and finger stopping to entice my nipples, then he lowers his face to my chest, tasting a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. I moan and pull a chunk of his hair when his fingers explore between my legs. "And wet, Jesus, so wet."

Lifting one of my legs, he moves it across me, running a hand and his eyes down my thigh to my ass. He enters me slowly, a little further with each thrust until he's in deep, making me hum from the feeling of him filling me.

Then Edward starts to move, stimulating the place unknown to me until just over a week ago, and it's not long before _I'm_ the one who's ready to explode. As a keening sound erupts from my throat, he starts to grunt, rising up on his hands, head raised and back arched, glorious with his eyes clenched shut.

"Fuck, roll over for me," he commands and pulls out, then lifts my hips so I'm on my knees with my legs slightly bent. I love the feel of his weight on my back and his mouth on my neck. I also love the two fingers he's sliding over my clit. "How's that?" he whispers in my ear when he enters me, and I can only groan, having lost the power of speech a while ago.

Somehow, he stays in control, thrusting hard until another orgasm rips through me before he lets go. Then we collapse on our backs to recover.

"You are one hell of a lover, Edward Cullen," I declare with my chest rising and falling.

He rolls on his side to face me. "I do love gettin' you worked up."

Touching his hair, his beard, I'm glad I let my heart overrule my head. Being with someone who fulfills me physically is everything. It reminds me he didn't answer my question about the number of women it took to train him so well. "Edward, how many women have you had?"

A look of surprise comes over his face. "It's in the past. Is this really important?"

I still want to know. "Maybe."

"How many have _you_ had, Bella?"

My answer is pathetic. "Three, including you."

"Okay, there were…" He stops briefly as if he's working it out, and now I'm worried the answer is going to shock me. "Five during college—one who became a steady girlfriend, then two more girlfriends and you, so eight. Is that acceptable?"

Okay, he isn't the manwhore Angela suspected. "Yeah, it's acceptable, and no children, right?" I had no intention of asking such a personal question, but it's out there now.

"No, ma'am." _Another box checked._ "Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Well, actually, I do have a few more questions."

"Uh…let me…I'll be right back." He gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. I hear the water run briefly before he turns out the lights and returns with a couple of tablets, washing them down with a swig from his bottle of water.

"What are you taking?" I ask.

"Just Advil. I've got a headache. How do you feel after the mezcal?"

"I'm good. I was a little spacey at the club, but the orgasms have sobered me up completely." With a grin, I add, "Maybe you're just allergic to my questions."

He shakes his head at me, then lies on his back. " _You're_ the one who won't answer any questions. Ask away, I have nothin' to hide."

I suppose it does seem like I'm secretive, but to tell my story, I have to be ready to relive it, and right now, I'm happy he's willing to talk.

"Why did Emmett hit you outside the hotel the night we met?"

He looks at me, measuring his answer for a few seconds. "I said something incredibly insensitive and he reacted."

"So he's not the violent type?"

"No!" he responds indignantly. "Did someone say he was?"

I run my nose through his beard. "You said you thought he broke your jaw."

"Well it _was_ quite a punch, but I deserved it."

As I move my hand over his chest, I ask, "What did you say to him?"

With a huge yawn, he answers. "Pass. That's between me and Emmett."

"Okay, sleepyhead, one more question. Why did your mother tell me Emmett's marriage was crumbling when they are obviously devoted to each other? I don't get it."

He snorts softly. "She should not have shared that kind of family business with you."

"It did fit with the way he was acting that day."

Through another yawn, he responds. "I suppose so. Can we continue this tomorrow?"

"Okay, tomorrow," I answer and cuddle up closer, wondering how often he suffers from headaches.

He kisses my head and breathes in deeply, holding me gently in his arms. "You know what I remember most from our time in Montana?"

Moving my thigh over his, I ask, "Is this revelation going to embarrass me?"

"Your hair, Bella—the smell and the feel of your hair." The last words trail off, replaced by a long exhale, and he gives in to sleep.

* * *

Edward doesn't stir when I move his arm so I can get up to use the bathroom. Peering out the curtains, I see it's cloudy, and we don't have any plans, so I hang out the do not disturb sign and climb back in with him. Even unconscious, he senses I'm near, wrapping an arm around me while his hand finds my hair, and I'm in heaven, falling asleep blissfully.

When I wake up again, the curtains are still closed but the shower is running. It shuts off and he comes out wrapped in a towel, downing half a bottle of water.

"Good morning." I stretch, completely relaxed and hedonistic—so contented I hum. I wonder if he feels better, if he'd enjoy a day where I give _him_ pleasure. He deserves it after last night.

He parts the net and smirks as his eyes rake over me. "It sure is."

"How are you feeling?" I ask, eyeing the towel I'm about to remove.

"Great, apart from this weird-ass hangover. I've still got the headache and just look at my eyes."

Sitting up, I see what he's talking about, but even with red eyes, he's still stunning. "Are they sore?"

"No, just red."

Pulling the towel apart, I find him already half-erect. "Then I should be taking care of _you_." One eyebrow raises and I know he's on exactly the same page, so I grab hold and squeeze him gently.

With his fingers in my hair, he kisses me softly while I stroke him. "What headache," he jokes, and I giggle into the kiss.

He's rock hard when we lay down, and he tortures me, kissing my neck and my breasts. The tingles feel like they're penetrating inside me when I call out, "Oh, God, your beard!"

"Too rough?" he asks.

"No, I love it."

"I know," he says, rubbing that delicious jaw over my nipple. I swear I could combust from the way his red eyes capture mine.

Edward is at his most seductive when he's like this. He seems to get off on a woman's response to him. Sex is so different when the man's sole focus isn't on intercourse, and I want to return every bit of the pleasure he's giving to me.

He exhausts me and revitalizes me again, resisting my attempts to get up. I'm succumbing to the softest of kisses when my stomach interrupts by growling, and we both break into laughter.

When I offer to get us some lunch, he's not hungry, apologizing and asking for more Advil. I let him sleep for a while, but when I check on him, he feels warm, warmer than he should be, and I pull the sheet up to his neck when I see him shivering. That's when I suspect this is not a hangover at all—more like a fever, a virus—hopefully just the start of a cold.

He needs rest and something nutritious, not starvation, so I order chicken soup with onions, garlic and carrot. I also request oranges.

They deliver exactly what I want, but I struggle to make a very sleepy Edward eat anything. While I try to encourage him, I notice the rash developing on his face. I have no idea what this new symptom might mean, but his father is a doctor, and he will know what to do.

With a feeling of mild panic, I decide to get Emmett involved.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Happy Easter!**_

 _ **Much love to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo. Thank you for everything you do for me and this story.**_

 _ **Reviews - well, I didn't reply to a lot of people this week. Many of you were guessing accurately or generally angry with me, and it was impossible to find the right response. I'm also falling behind, so I'm trying to push forward and finish the story. Please accept my apologies.**_

 _ **I have to say, though, a favorite was from**_ ** _AnakinSmom - short but just great. "He has been hit by a love bug."_**

 _ **So, I guess we need to find out what's wrong with him.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

"I don't think it's a hangover," Emmett accepts with a sigh.

"Do you have a sore throat?" Rose asks as she scrolls on her laptop.

"No," Edward responds, though his voice _does_ sound like it's sore.

"Blurry vision? Disorientation? Rapid heartbeat?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing like that."

"It could be anything. There are so many possibles on this list."

"The staff at the desk here, Bella," Emmett asks. "Do they speak good English?"

"Yes, and French, German and Spanish. You'll find them all very helpful."

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute. Don't take any more Advil, Ed. I'm going to ask about seeing a doctor." With that, he walks out, leaving Rose and I looking at each other, our worry growing.

Ten minutes later, Emmett is calling Be Tulum for their van to take them to a medical center in the town of Tulum.

Edward dresses in shorts and a t-shirt that says, "PADDLE FASTER - I hear banjos." He smiles when he sees me staring, and I smile right back. Having already told me he's not a fan of bluegrass, I have no idea what music he prefers apart from Guns 'N Roses and Pearl Jam. We haven't played music in this room, not that we've been here that much, and when we have—well, Edward has been my entertainment.

I make sure they spray themselves with insect repellent when they leave and watch them go from the porch, smiling when Emmett puts his arm over his brother's shoulders.

"They could be gone for a while, Rose. Do you want anything—coffee?"

"No," she answers, still scrolling. "I hope he's okay."

Her computer gives me a way to take our minds off Edward. "Do you think I could plug my camera in to view the photos I've taken?"

"Sure." She turns the laptop to face me. "You didn't bring one?"

"No, we don't have power outlets in this room."

Frowning, she asks, "How do you charge your phone?"

"I brought a solar charger with me. It's only enough for a camera battery and a phone or two."

"Bullshit," she challenges with eyes darting around the walls, and I watch her, remembering Edward saying she'd never stay here. "What a shame. This is such a beautiful room."

I find myself leaping to the defense of the hotel again. "We have lights and a ceiling fan. The Wi-Fi is excellent."

"And that bed," she adds with a smirk. "Okay, plug it in. I want to see what you've taken."

Seeing shots of a foggy sunrise on the beach, it seems like a long time since I took them. That first night was the only time we've had rain.

"That's us!" Rose exclaims.

Shit. She's found the photos of her and Edward in the ocean before I knew who she was.

"I was on my way to the ruins."

"You didn't stop and say hello?"

"No, I…I had been rude to Edward, and I didn't know what reception I'd get."

"Oh, Bella, he was devastated when you wouldn't answer his calls."

A nod is the only response I can manage when I have no idea how our relationship will progress. Falling in love with Edward would be so easy, but we still have details to work through before taking the next step.

We move through the photos of the three of them on the beach out front, the whale shark tour, and Isla Mujeres.

"He's been smitten with you for a while, you know. You might have broken up his last relationship before he ever laid eyes on you." Taken aback, I wonder why she thinks such a thing is possible. "He wanted you hired for the shoot, and no one was going to change his mind."

"I didn't know he was involved in the farm. He said he only comes home for the harvest."

"Well, sister, he involved himself when it came to choosing the photographer, and his girlfriend hated it. She couldn't understand him being drawn to a woman's mind and talent. Tanya was the type who glared at anyone who looked at him sideways. In the end, she was suffocating him."

"When did they break up?" I ask, as casually as I can, encouraging more candid comments on his ex.

"He moved out six weeks ago, but he told Emmett a few months back he already knew she wasn't the one. He'd given up on ever finding someone to marry."

I had no idea they'd split so recently, and I can only contribute what I know from bitter experience. "It can take a while to end things, even when you know the person isn't right for you."

Rose looks me straight in the eyes. "She wasn't being honest, Bella. Tanya was playing a role, trying to be whatever he wanted. To her he was like a trophy." Then she looks down. "I really shouldn't bad-mouth the woman when I only met her a couple of times, but she rubbed me the wrong way."

"Did…" I'm just going to ask since I know Rose probably won't hold back about her mother-in-law. "Did Esme like her?"

"As far as I know they never met. In fact—I can't remember him ever bringing a girlfriend to the farm. I don't blame him. Esme…can be challenging."

I state the obvious. "You don't get along."

She shrugs. "I don't live there anymore."

"You don't live with Emmett?" I ask, thinking her solution is kind of extreme.

"No, I've taken a job with a company running science workshops in schools around the state. I love to see young kids discover science, and it's easier if I'm not there while Emmett tries to guide his mother into the twenty-first century. We still make time to get together for the middle of the month," she adds with a wink.

"I can't live there and do everything her way. She's given us hell over the infertility problem, and still won't listen to Emmett's ideas for expansion and cross-pollination while she's stuck in the belief that God somehow bestowed a sacred parcel of land on her family. She won't discuss growing her barley anywhere else."

"It _is_ an incredible piece of land," I respond, recognizing the beauty I saw in Montana. Rose shrugs and nods. "What does Carlisle say?"

"He sits on the fence and stays out of trouble. Alice and Jasper do the same. Emmett's the one who stands up to her. To me, it's simple—if they want to sell more whiskey, they have to grow more barley. We need a place of our own, and Emmett has found several parcels of land, but for some reason, she's convinced herself he's going to break away from Masen's Whiskey."

"You mean like start his own label?"

"Yes, and why would he do that now? Have you tasted the whiskey? It's amazing. She should be giving Emmett and Jasper credit for what they've done together, but lately, it's like she's permanently pissed at us."

"Maybe she thinks they'll take over and she'll have no place in the business."

"Okay, but aren't we supposed to celebrate our children's successes? She paid for Emmett's education and at least half of Jasper's. They came home dutifully to put into practice what they learned, and now she has a boutique whiskey that's generating a lot of interest. What more could she want?"

"Sounds like she's fearful of change."

"Yep. That's the nail. You just hit it on the head." Turning back to the laptop, she puts her hand to her lips. "Oh my God, Bella, Em will love this photo. The sunset is so beautiful on the jungle. You have an amazing gift, and I've been ignoring it, raving on."

"That's okay." I've been enjoying the information. Things make a little more sense now.

"Thank you for letting me vent."

We come to the photos I took of Edward the following day, and Rose smiles without taking her eyes off the screen.

"You like him, don't you." I guess it's obvious when frame after frame contain nothing but Edward. "You make him look like a model."

"Believe me, I just point and click."

She grins and then startles as the door opens.

"You weren't gone long," I remark.

Emmett replies. "One place was about to close and the other had a three hour wait." He tips his chin at his brother. "We bought a thermometer."

Edward takes it out of his mouth. "Same the second time. A hundred point five."

"That's not dangerously high," I state, having done some paramedic training for the ranger service.

"No, but now we have to call Dad." Emmett brings the phone to his ear, pacing for a while before giving up. "Voicemail. He's probably still driving home. We have to get him Bluetooth."

"Next birthday," Edward suggests.

Emmett comes over and scoops Rose up, sitting her down in his lap. She folds herself into him and nuzzles his neck. "Hungry?" he asks, and she nods. "We staying in tonight?"

I look at Edward who's back on the bed. "My treat, okay? You paid for dinner the other night."

When he smiles enthusiastically, I know exactly where I'm going. There's a tiny place I've seen as we've walked up the road, always busy no matter what time of the day. After spraying myself with more repellent than I need, I set off, ready to order food to cheer us all up.

When I return, Carlisle is on speaker, his voice raised like he's angry his two sons are in Mexico and that one of them is ill. Emmett is trying to calm him down and throws the phone on the bed as a host of questions start.

His diagnosis, based on Edward's symptoms, is Zika virus, spread by mosquitoes. I discussed it with my doctor when I was planning this trip and he told me it was mild, untreatable and short-lived. The virus is rampant through South America and people contract it without even knowing and go on with their lives.

" _I want you all to come home immediately."_

Emmett rolls his eyes at the appeal from his father. "This is what it's like being the child of a doctor," he mutters.

" _Zika can lead to a syndrome where the immune system damages nerve cells, causing muscle weakness, and sometimes, paralysis."_

"Is that common?" Emmett asks, somewhat sarcastically.

" _Take a look at the CDC website. Zika virus is also associated with birth defects. Aren't you two trying to conceive?"_

The wail from Rose is a sound I never want to hear again. The look she gives Emmett is desperate and she walks out to the deck with her laptop.

"We are, Dad." Emmett's expression changes to one of anguish, his stare fixed on his wife.

" _Then you need to have tests done as soon as possible."_

I hear Rose groan as she looks up to the sky. "Fuck," she hisses, then covers her mouth with her hand.

Emmett goes to her side and Edward picks up the phone from the bed. "We'll call you back, Dad." He hangs up and looks at me as if the burden is too much. "I'm so sorry," he says with a huge sigh.

"It's not your fault." None of them would be in Tulum if it wasn't for me. Mosquitoes ate Edward alive for two nights while I sat on my high horse of morality, and for what? I still ended up sleeping with him. It's clear that I'm the one to blame here, and I don't feel very proud of myself right now, guiltily avoiding Edward's eyes.

I go to my phone to search for the website Carlisle mentioned. Once I find Zika virus, it's easy to see that Edward's symptoms fit the diagnosis: headache, lethargy, raised temperature, red eyes, rash. Now I wonder if his vertigo yesterday morning was a sign he was ill.

As I delve further into the information, the energy drains from body when I read the warnings about the virus spreading through unprotected sex when one of the categories is oral. I don't know anything about protected oral sex, so I click on the link, sickened by illustrations meant to graphically educate me. I feel like I want to vomit, my naiveté glaring back from the screen on my phone. No one has ever even mentioned such things exist, and suddenly I feel dirty.

"You should come back with us," Edward urges. "Dad gets the results of the tests really fast."

 _Oh, God. Carlisle will be thorough, especially where his children are concerned, asking questions I'll die answering. My face will go bright red and he'll know I went down on his son, unprotected. The earth can't swallow me up fast enough._

"Bella?"

"Um…no, I'll go back to Seattle," I respond, still glued to the hideous website. Now I realize how little I know, I'm making sure I read every word. "If I get sick, it's better if I'm home."

 _How did I let this happen? I cannot discuss another sexually transmitted disease with my doctor. I'll have to find a clinic—somewhere I can be anonymous._

Rose drags herself in like her soul has been ripped apart. "I'm not fit to be a mother."

Emmett glances at me. "Come on, Rose. We have no idea if we've got it. I feel fine."

She looks into space without even registering his words. "If one of us has caught it, we won't be able to try again for six months."

"I'm going to check on the flights," Emmett announces, taking the laptop.

"I've been here before. I should have known about this." Poor Rose. My heart aches for her but I'm trembling too much to physically comfort her.

"Emmett's right, Rose. Only Edward has symptoms. Maybe we'll be lucky." I glance at Edward for support. He's lying on his pillow, staring, only able to offer a tiny smile.

"Lucky," she snorts. "This would have been the first time in my life I was pregnant."

"Do you feel like you _are_ pregnant?"

"I wouldn't know what it feels like, but it would be too early to tell. I don't think... no, I know I couldn't terminate a life." As she gives into tears, my own problems seem trivial in comparison.

"Delta at four twenty, okay?" Emmett asks. "It's the shortest trip I can find."

Edward raises his thumb and Rose sniffles and nods. "The sooner we get out of here the better," she mutters, pulling herself together.

"Bella should be coming with us," Edward says softly.

"Why don't you?" Rose asks, with an attempt at a smile. "You're not going to stay here on your own are you?"

 _Could I go with them to Montana when I just want to disappear? I had a business relationship with the Cullen family, and they will naturally question why Edward followed me to Mexico. That could lead to them finding out I slept with their son as soon as we finished the harvest shoot. To deeply religious Esme, I'll be nothing more than a slut who lured her son into bed. I'm no better than Maggie._

With those depressing thoughts in my head, I reply. "No, I think I'll go home."

Her shoulders sag and she looks at Edward, her eyes full of sadness and resignation.

Emmett insists I fly out with them. Their flight goes via Salt Lake City, and he finds me a connection to Seattle. It only costs me a small fee to change from next Tuesday's flight.

Edward gets up and tries to join in for dinner, making himself a burrito with a little meat and a lot of avocado. He lies down again and falls asleep while we finish the food and I look through the rest of the photos. It's a good record of a great vacation, but I unplug the camera sadly, imagining what the rest of the images might have been.

When Rose and Emmett finally head back to their hotel, I go to bed and sweat in the humidity while Edward shivers beside me. He mumbles something I can't make out, and when I ask him to repeat it, he just says, "I'm sorry."

* * *

With Edward unconscious again after refusing breakfast, Rose suggests a quick shopping trip before we have to depart. Emmett is happy to stay and watch over his brother, so we take a cab to the town center, knowing we've bought nothing for the people back home. Angela, Ben and Tyler will understand under the circumstances, but I can't bear to see Garrett's pout if I don't bring him back something authentically Mexican.

Picking up skull shaped lamps, garish ceramics and cheap percussion items, the Mayan artifacts marked as "unique" look jaded and sad, sitting alongside dozens of identical copies. Pewter photo frames and carved wooden faces have me walking out on the street, frustrated. I don't have the enthusiasm today—my mind anywhere but on this.

An hour later, I check my purchases, and I haven't bought that much. A Mexican star lantern takes my eye, but I have to leave it when our cab arrives to take us back, and the driver honks the horn.

We arrive at the airport with Edward's temperature still hovering between ninety-nine and a hundred. Wearing his straw cowboy hat, he's still weak and shivery, taking everything slow and keeping to himself. His rash has moved from his face to his chest and he hides the red eyes behind sunglasses, but even in sickness, he's still a fine looking man.

With my last minute duty-free booze and chocolates stashed away, I tell the flight attendant Edward is suffering from a migraine and she agrees to give him the spare seats down the back. He's soon out cold, tufts of copper colored hair the only thing I can see from my seat, while I have plenty of time to deconstruct the past week.

I wonder what it is about this one man who has made me abandon my values, when I've never had a problem saying no in the past. We could have easily moved him to another hotel, but I chose to invite him to mine, aware of the risk I was taking. He never once tried to force himself on me, even when I pushed him to the point of exploding, so I can't blame Edward for my feelings of shame.

In every way, he acted honorably, and I'm not sure what I've become.

We're late landing at Salt Lake and their next flight is already boarding. I have another hour to wait. Agitated since we touched down, I'm dreading having to say goodbye like this, ending the vacation on a sour note when it had been so wonderful, if short-lived.

I say goodbye to Rose and Emmett who join the line to board. Edward leans his head against mine, and says, "I'm sorry I messed up your vacation."

"It's not your fault, so please stop saying you're sorry."

"When can I see you again?" he asks, frowning.

"I really don't know," I answer in all honesty.

"Are you working next weekend?"

"Edward, you have to find out what's wrong with you, and I have a houseful of things to go through. I may have to put them in storage for now."

"You haven't done that yet?"

"No, everything was listed under the divorce settlement, so I couldn't take anything until it was final. Now the house has been sold, I have to decide on where I'm going to live. I don't know where I'll end up."

"Then move closer to me."

Rubbing my forehead doesn't make this any easier. "Where would that be? You don't have a home either. I told you I need time."

"You don't see we'll be good together?"

"Come on Edward. We don't know each other well enough to answer that yet."

"All I'm asking is that you try to get to know me. You know how I feel."

"Then think about moving to Seattle."

"You said yourself it was time to get out of Seattle."

"I'm just using it as an example."

"What? Seattle?"

"Yes, Seattle. Christ, this is how we'll be all the time—bickering over stupid details like locations and dates."

He grabs a handful of his hair in frustration. "What's the difference? Can't you base yourself wherever you want?"

"Yes, but…"

He frowns at me. "You're not making any sense, Bella."

He's so right. Nothing I do makes any sense. "Don't rush me, Edward."

"Okay, fine." He snorts and picks up his bag.

A feeling of panic sweeps over me and I almost grab hold of his arm. "Edward…"

"I've gotta go or I'll miss the flight. Let me know how you go with your blood tests."

He hesitates with eyes begging me to respond, while I'm holding back words that threaten to undo everything I just said. Then he's gone, and I wait for my flight, reliving other occasions having to part with eyes recovering from tears caused by an argument.

Only this time, the tears are just beginning to flow.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_

 **(presses Post New Chapter and runs away)**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Much love and many thanks to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86 and SarcasticBimbo (absent this week - thinking of you, girl). All errors are mine.**_

 _ **Reviews - it wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be, actually. Some of you still retain a little of Bella's perspective (although I realise she has tested us all - including me who has to keep her in character).  
**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 10**_

Angela stands at the kitchen counter, dunking a tea bag. "I would have picked you up, you know. I wasn't doing anything."

"It was late. I thought you'd be staying with Ben."

"No, he was working, some outside shoot, inner-city grunge. Apparently, he made some new contacts."

"That's what you aim for in this game."

She eyes me warily while I wait for the questions to start.

"Why are you back early?"

I consider sharing the whole story, and then imagine the look of disgust when she hears the sordid details.

"Edward got sick and his family wanted him to come home for tests. I didn't want to stay there on my own."

"Oh—how sick?"

"Headache, fever, bloodshot eyes, and fatigue. He was falling asleep all the time."

"You didn't let him fly back on his own like that, did you?"

I acknowledge the frown and the question by scowling, then she takes a sip of her tea. "He may have caught a virus from mosquito bites that can lead to neurological complications and birth defects. His brother and sister-in-law are trying to conceive, so Rose is beside herself with worry. We all have to have blood tests."

"I'm sorry. I've read about these mosquito-borne diseases like Dengue Fever. Should I be canceling the cruise?" She and Ben are getting married in a month, honeymooning on a Carnival cruise to Aruba, Curacao, and Grand Turk (the reason she didn't come to Mexico with me).

"Only if you want to get pregnant straight away. Just use lots of repellent. The problem was Edward's hotel room wasn't sealed properly and it had no mosquito net."

"Is that why he was sharing your bed?"

I glare at her, feeling the weight of her disapproval. "I couldn't let him stay there like that."

"So he _moved_ to your room?"

I nod, trying to busy myself with the coffee machine.

"Bella?" She waits until I meet her stare. "You've been looking forward to this trip for ages. The hot cowboy from Montana follows you all the way to Mexico and is sleeping in your bed. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"How much detail do you want?"

"I don't know, but the long face and the puffy eyes don't go with the suntan."

"We had a good time, and then he got sick. That's all." She waits, but I can't come up with words to explain my poor behavior.

"Are there any photos of this vacation?"

"A few."

"Then plug the camera into the television. I want to see what I missed." When I bring the camera out, she has already taken charge of the remote. With an arched eyebrow, she confronts me. "I know what you're like. I'm not letting you skip through the juicy ones."

"Maybe I deleted them already."

"Yeah, right. You never delete anything."

I chuckle because she _does_ know me, too well sometimes. It's because we've known each other since we were six. Even though we've had years when we've hardly spoken, we always reconnect like we were never apart.

"I could have uploaded them, you know. Oh, that reminds me, I have photos of whale sharks on my phone. Never mind. I'll get to them when you're finished."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, press play." After the first half dozen shots, she picks up the pad and pen she keeps near the couch. "What are you writing?" I ask.

"Just making sure I know where everyone fits in."

"There are only three of them, Ang: two brothers, and a wife. I know you'd really like Rose."

"And who are these people?" She points at the screen with the remote.

"Bree and Riley—just a couple on the tour that day."

Angela always asks a lot of questions. She's interested in everything, her intelligence fed by a voracious curiosity—a trait that serves her well in her job, exposing financial fraud. A girl who always loved numbers and patterns, she punctuates sentences with words like "anomaly" and "suspect intermediaries".

We all have our own jargon. She listens intently when I explain how changing depth of field alters the subject and drama of an image, and why keeping my photos in RAW format gives me flexibility in post-production.

I smile when I see the image of Edward wearing his rash guard. Angela places the pad down on the couch.

"And where are we now?"

"An hour and a half northeast of Cancun—whale shark feeding ground."

Speeding through vacation snaps of people she's never met, she suddenly gasps. "Heavens! Is this a photo of Bella Swan?"

"Ugh." I try to snatch the remote, but she leans away.

"I want this one framed on my wall."

"Shut up."

When we reach the photos of Edward on the beach, the rate of forward movement slows significantly. With her head tilted at an angle, she studies him for a while before she finally speaks. "Jesus, he is handsome. Does he know it?"

I don't answer right away, stuck on the latest Edward on the big TV. "Hard to tell, really. He's cheeky, very sure of himself, and he caught me staring longer than I should a few times, but he has this way of giving you his full attention. It's quite disarming."

Sighing, she says, "So you don't think he's an asshole anymore."

Falling into despair, I shake my head. "No, not at all. He was wonderful company."

"His eyes give him away, Bella—the way he looks at you." Staring at the television, I remember that day so vividly and how gorgeous he was through the lens. "Did you happen to get the answers to the questions I asked?"

"Eight partners, including me, and three of them were steady girlfriends."

"Wait—is that a lot or a little?" she asks with an infectious giggle I can't help returning.

"He's twenty-nine. I don't think it's a lot."

"He came on pretty strong in that bar in Montana. Can you trust he's telling the truth?"

I have to consider her question carefully, because he did come on strong, with a sexual confidence that quickly put a stop to my practice run at flirting. However, he was open about the fact that he couldn't resist, and I can understand it now.

"I don't believe he's lied about anything."

"Okay," she says, accepting my answer. "So why is he still single?"

I snort because it's like I'm describing myself. "He's an architect, Ang. He travels a lot for work and I get the impression he's quite involved in the building process."

"Well, if he's an architect, he's probably earning a percentage of the project cost—a small portion for the design and a bigger share if he follows the job through to completion."

"How do you know that?" She never ceases to amaze me with the detail she plucks from her brain.

"A client hired me to find out why his building costs were blowing out. I discovered the architect worked a series of expensive problems into the project that no one could have foreseen. He thought he was smart, but he wasn't smart enough for me." She ends with a self-satisfied grin. "I love to catch those pricks."

I have to laugh. "Edward gets angry when the client wants to change his design for the sake of a short-term gain, literally wanting to choke people who make costly mistakes."

"I remember you wanting to strangle the people who sent you to capture the moment the ice starts to melt."

All I can do is shake my head at that memory. "What was the point when the climate is in constant change?"

"But you persevered, Bella, almost suffering hypothermia to get that image of the first drop of water."

"I could have submitted a photo I already had and no one would have known."

"No, your integrity would never have allowed that." I try to smile, but I don't deserve a compliment, not today. Angela has always supported me like a generous sister, and she doesn't see that my flaws run deep. After the way I acted with Edward, I wouldn't be surprised if he never contacts me again. "Bella, do you want to take a break from this?"

"No, I'm fine." I don't have the integrity to admit what I did, nor the wisdom to understand why.

"You have tears in your eyes."

Lying back, I look at the ceiling. "I can't stop thinking about him. He says he wants a relationship and I told him I'm not ready, but he brings out a side of me I didn't know existed. I had sex with him again, Ang."

I wait for the backlash. "Well, what were you expecting, sleeping together like that?"

"He never came onto me. It was me who started it—I don't expect you to approve."

"You're a grown woman, so it's not up to me to approve. I only advised you to be careful. Neither of us has much experience with men, and I'm not sure what I'd do if I was newly single and met the right guy."

Shaking my head slowly, I reply. "The right guy—I hardly know him."

She looks at me seriously. "Bella, from the moment you came back from Montana, you never stopped talking about this man. Granted, some of it wasn't very complimentary, but he had an effect on you. It was a shock seeing all that emotion pour out."

"You don't think I was emotional when I was breaking up with Jake?"

"No, you were just treading water. Staying with Jake was sucking the life out of you."

Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I let out a huge breath. "I don't know what it is about this guy."

"Well, I've never had a handsome man chase me to another country, but he's certainly determined, so maybe that's the difference. He hasn't given you the opportunity to say no."

"I _did_ say no."

"Except it turned into a rather large yes." She raises her eyebrows and looks at me smugly. Angela has been on my case for months, lecturing me every time I turned down the offer of a date. "You finally conquered your insecurities and gave someone a chance to show you their real self. I'm proud of you, girl."

 _If only I could live up to her opinion of me._

"I've never felt this kind of attraction before and, believe me, I didn't handle it very well."

"Oh, Bella," she says, smoothing my hair. "You've been through so much, haven't you." The strength of her compassion makes me tear up again. "What did you tell him about Jake?"

"Hardly anything. I don't enjoy talking about him."

"Does he know you were a ranger?"

"Yes."

"And why you left Forks?"

"I only told him about the competition and the scholarship."

"You didn't mention the bear?" When I shake my head, she growls softly. "We talked about this. What you did defines who you are. You must tell the story to see his reaction. It's a deal breaker."

"I know, Ang, but I could feel myself going to pieces, all right? Sometimes it's still raw like it happened yesterday. Those bastards brought it home to my family, my parents…"

She folds her arms around me and whispers, "It's okay." Angela knows when I need her physical comfort and how much I love her for it.

Eventually, I wipe my tears and we get back to the photos. She's excited to see the Tulum Ruins overlooking the sea, and I smile when we reach the bar on the beach with the swings, remembering the cool sand under my feet and the comfort I felt leaning on Edward's shoulder.

Speeding through the day we spent at Coba and the cenotes, she stops at the image of Edward and I at Gitano.

"Another photo of Bella Swan! You look happy here."

I _do_ look happy and content, and now I've had time to think about what happened later that night, the sexual energy in the crowd at the beach club was enough to ignite the fire between us, even without Maggie's arrival. He admitted he was ready to explode and so was I.

Having deleted every trace of that girl from my camera, the photos end with a shadowy Edward, a blurry specter moving along the bar. They're interesting, but they don't capture the predatory way I observed him searching for me.

"I wish I'd come with you," she states, looking dreamy. "When are you seeing him again?"

"He asked the same thing before he boarded his flight and I told him not to rush me, so it wasn't exactly pleasant when he left. He wanted me to go with him to Montana and have the blood tests done there. His father is a doctor."

"Why didn't you?"

For a second, I consider explaining how stressed I was, how low I felt, but they're pathetic excuses, shameful reasons for running away.

"In hindsight, I should have. I've since found out there's a four-week delay in getting results back. This virus has no vaccine and no cure." I kick myself, thinking how close I came to accepting when Rose asked me. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. "When it comes to Edward, I just keep making mistakes."

"Then don't make another one."

"Huh?"

"Well, you said he wants to see you again, and you've got a good reason to go to him. Otherwise, you'll spend the rest of the vacation moping around here, wishing you took the detour to Montana. If there's no cure for this thing and you get sick, what am I supposed to do with you? I'll have to call Renee to come down."

Just thinking about Mom fussing makes me shudder. She might even try to drag me back to Forks. When I glare at Angela, she grins back. She knows I'll do anything to avoid that.

"You have the perfect opportunity to see what it's like in his world—something Jake should have done. I know he wanted to protect you. I even believe he loved you, but your life didn't change when you moved to Seattle. You were still hiking and camping and taking your amazing photos.

"Jake left a tight-knit community to follow you here when he had no idea what it was like living in a city. That's why he kept going home, and that's why he was always angry. Let's face it, you saying you wanted a divorce must have been a relief for him."

My shoulders slump and I sigh, wishing I had the luxury of her objectivity.

"Go get your tests done and make peace with the man. It's not a mistake to find out more about him. I have a feeling this guy is going to surprise you. You're either going to fit right in and want to stay with him, or come back relieved you didn't make another mistake."

With a glimmer of hope, I hug her to death, then retreat to my room. It takes a few minutes of staring at my phone to work out what I want to say. I need Angela's formidable confidence, but I can't make this call with her standing beside me.

After a few deep breaths, I call him, but it goes to voicemail, and I hang up without leaving a message. I need to hear how angry he is with me. When he doesn't call back, I hope it's because he's sleeping, and start looking at flights.

"It's over three-hundred bucks one way, Ang!"

"Write it off against the job. You have to re-shoot some location or something." _Why didn't I think of that?_ "And don't forget I still owe you for the tickets."

This wedding they're having is anything but traditional. Instead of a girl's night out, we're flying to LA to see The Lumineers at The Greek. I think I'm looking forward to it even more than she is.

While I have time, I transfer the photos from the camera and phone to the laptop. Finally, I get a chance to see the whale sharks on my big monitor, and I'm astounded. There are so many exceptional photos that I now have a collection I can sell.

"Ang?" I call out. "You gotta see this."

The photo of Edward's face, captivated as the shark lies vertically in front of him, is a gift. Zoomed in or out, I've been very lucky to get such an image.

"Oh, God," she says with her hand covering her mouth. "Is that a whale shark?" The phone ringing interrupts us, and my heart leaps when I see it's Edward.

"Hi."

" _You called?"_ he responds abruptly.

"I'm looking at a photo of you and a whale shark. It may be the best photo I've ever taken."

" _Congratulations,"_ he responds with the bitter tone I was expecting.

"How are you feeling today?"

" _The headache is retreating."_

Seconds go by with nothing more from him, so I take a breath and try to make peace. "I…I called to apologize, Edward."

" _Okay."_

"I couldn't sleep last night, regretting what I said when you left. I'm sorry."

" _We_ might _spend time bickering over times and dates, Bella. Nothin's perfect."_

"Well, I really do want to see you again, and I'm still on vacation. Is it okay if I come to Montana and have my tests done with you?"

" _Yeah, it is."_ I'm sure I hear the hint of a smile in his voice. _"But you'll have to have to be quick. We're having the tests done in the morning."_

"On a Sunday?"

" _The guy is doin' Dad a favor. We have to fit in with him."_

"All right, am I flying to Billings?"

" _Yeah, it's Logan Airport."_

"Can you give me your address?"

" _I'll pick you up."_

"No you won't. I'll catch a cab."

" _Yes I will."_

"Okay." I give in and scroll through the list, finding limited options left. "There's a Delta flight that arrives at 10:00 pm. It's four and a half hours, though. Does that sound right?"

" _It should be two hours direct."_

I sigh. "I should have come with you last night."

" _Why the change of heart? Not that I'm complainin'."_

"I had a talk with my girlfriend and realized a few things. I _do_ want to get to know you better."

I hear him snort softly. _"I'm lookin' forward to meetin' this woman."_

The thought of Edward meeting Angela puts the biggest smile on my face. "I'll call you straight back. I don't want to make a mistake with the booking."

" _I'll be here, waitin'."_

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**I want to thank all the women on the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, and VampyreGirl86. This chapter almost didn't happen when the sky dumped a foot of snow on South Dakota this weekend. Power restored, SarcasticBimbo soldiered on with her beta magic to bring this to you.**_

 _ **Reviews: Everyone wants a friend like Angela it seems. Lord knows Bella needed her. The story about the bear is coming - just not yet, okay?  
**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 11**_

Billings: the only city in Montana with a population over 100,000. It sprung up on the banks of the Yellowstone River and spread over a canyon formed by a much bigger river millions of years before, leaving the sandstone cliffs that surround the town. Billings survived because of a railroad (similar to Forks' early history). It grew with the discovery of the biggest oilfield in U.S. history near the border with North Dakota, and is still home to an Exxon Mobil oil refinery. These days, it's the trading and retail center for most of eastern Montana.

It's actually farther south than I thought, close to Wyoming and Yellowstone National Park. The surrounding towns have names like Comanche, Indian Arrow, Bull Mountain, and Roundup. I bet they are nothing like they sound.

To the southeast is the Crow Reservation, the site of the Little Bighorn battle and memorial to those who died, including Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. Further east is the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation. They actually use the word "Indian" in the name on the map. Jake's father would have a fit.

I've been trying to get a sense of the place where Edward lives. With another layover in Salt Lake City, I had to do something to stop myself from howling. Being back in this airport a second night running just goes to show what an idiot I've been—a practice that is about to cease.

With eyes wide open, I am going to investigate Edward Cullen's potential as someone I can have a relationship with. What that relationship will be is the outcome of stage one. Stage two is working out how to achieve it.

That's the pep talk Angela gave me on the way to Sea Tac, and she's never steered me wrong yet. Gotta love that woman.

* * *

From my limited vision, sandwiched between two people who aren't one bit interested in seeing Billings from the air, it looks like we're touching down on top of the city. Not that I'm necessarily entertaining the idea of living here, but if I was to move from Seattle, I'd want to be close to an airport with good connections. How close would depend on my new home.

I've had dreams of living in a spectacular location most of my life, and I know it's not the proximity to the best coffee in town that fills my soul. Seattle's great cuisine and artistic endeavors are very attractive, but they pale in comparison to a blanket of pristine snow.

Getting through the airport is quick, and it doesn't take long for my bag to appear. I don't have to look far for Edward, who's outside, leaning against a silver SUV, and I'm kinda disappointed he didn't bring the Mustang. When he sees me, he waves and walks over. The automatic doors part to let him through, and I take in every inch of him.

Wearing boots, his soft blue jeans, and a t-shirt that says, "HARVARD," the way he moves sucks me instantly into his spell. As he comes closer, I chuckle at the small print below that reads, "just kidding."

"Thank you for this," I say sincerely.

"It wasn't a problem pickin' you up." He leans over to take my bag.

Touching his arm, I explain, "No, I mean for giving me another chance."

"You'll talk to me? You'll answer my questions?"

"I will." I smile at the newly groomed version of the beard I've grown to love, and now I can't believe I'm here. "You trimmed the beard."

"Ah, yeah," he responds, rubbing his fingers over his jaw. "Come on, let's go."

"Shouldn't you be wearing a jacket?" I ask, remembering how sick he was only twenty-four hours ago.

"There's one in the car." It's a mild night in Billings, much nicer than the chill I left in Seattle, and there are a trillion stars in the sky above me. When I stop to admire them, Edward asks, "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm enjoying a sky full of stars."

"Like the Coldplay song?" he asks, placing my back in the back.

I'm pleased he made that connection. It would be nice if he prefers music genres other than those that end in the word "metal." Jake said I would grow to love it, but I didn't. The more he played, the more it sounded like a violent battle between screeching instruments and screaming lyrics.

"You like Coldplay?" I ask.

"Yeah, doesn't everyone?" I suppose that doesn't tell me much. They _are_ one of the biggest bands in the world. "Did you see James Corden drive Chris Martin to the Super Bowl?"

Laughing, I remember Chris Martin's impression of Mick Jagger. "I did! It was hilarious. I love those carpool karaokes. Did you see Michelle Obama? She was so cool."

He groans. "Can't they just stay where they are until we get two decent candidates?" With a snort, he adds, "The guy from 'The Apprentice' is running for President. You know Montana is a Republican state?"

"Washington votes Democrat."

He starts the car and pulls out without commenting further, and I don't encourage a discussion on this hideous election. It's too depressing.

Staring out the window, I notice we're up high, looking down on the lights of the city. Billings is a big sprawling town—nothing like either Forks or Seattle. The descent is quick and before long, he says, "This is it," pulling into the driveway of a clapboard house. When the garage door rises, we park alongside the Mustang.

It might have a double garage, but Edward's house is tiny. His furniture is nice, but there's not much of it.

"I'll sleep on the couch," he offers.

"No, you won't. You're too sick."

"Look, Bella, I figured out why you wanted to get away from me. I've been reading how the virus is spread and I could have passed it on to you."

I rub his arm, wondering if this is why he hasn't touched me. "Hey, you don't know you have Zika yet and, honestly, if I've caught it, I have no one else to blame but myself. Maybe it's a good thing if I catch it now, before I want children."

"Fuck," he says, grabbing a handful of his hair. "If Rose is pregnant…"

"Oh, Edward." I hug him as tightly as I can, but there is nothing I can say to make him feel better. We may all be devastated tomorrow if the worst happens and she _is_ pregnant and carrying the virus, but the likelihood of that happening has to be slim. Rose and Emmett are intelligent people who chose to join him in Mexico while they were trying to conceive, and Edward blaming himself doesn't help the situation. "I think we should go to bed—together."

He takes my bag and I turn on my phone to follow him. The phone pings and I sit on his bed, reading several messages from Garrett. He's worked himself into a state, unable to contact me when James Hunter asked to see all the photos from the harvest shoot for a magazine article. The Hunter Agency is looking after the Masen's Whiskey campaign, and poor Garrett is torn, not knowing what to do without my approval.

In the last message, he's desperate, saying he's ready to take the repercussions if he screws up, so I call him, worried he's already gone ahead. He _has_ shared photos before when instructed, and the folder still contains every shot I took, most of them revealing my infatuation with the client's son. The photos of us kissing near the edge of the cliffs are there too, so I'm anxious to speak to him immediately.

" _Oh, thank God!"_ he blurts out. _"Have you seen my messages?"_

"You didn't share the photos yet, did you?"

" _No, but that man is intimidating."_

I close my eyes and lower my head with relief. "I'm proud of you, Garrett. No one gets to see our photos without my consent."

" _That's right, Bella."_ With a deep sigh, he adds, _"Shit_ — _I need a drink."_

"Have one for me. You did good."

" _So you'll call him?"_

"Yes, I'll call him right away."

I hang up and find the number for James. When he answers, I don't waste any time on a greeting.

"What makes you think you have the right to bully my assistant?"

" _The client needs the photos and you're currently out of the country."_ I consider correcting him, but choose not to waste my time.

"What's the raging urgency?" Edward leans down, placing a glass with a couple of fingers of whiskey next to me, and I hold onto his arm, thanking him.

" _I need them on Monday. Anyway, what's your problem? The images are now our property._ "

It's hard not to snort at his bullshit. "I don't work for you, James, so they are certainly _not_ your property."

Taking a sip of whiskey, I wait. James is still pissed that they chose me over his own photographer. He hates not being in control, and he knows he has no jurisdiction over my photos, so I'm angry he tried to bluff Garrett.

" _We need those images."_

"Then I'll deal directly with Esme Cullen. Does she have the article?"

"Not yet."

That sounds like James. "Well, when you send it to her, I'll provide a selection for the magazine."

He's such a prick. After I turned down his sexual advances, he spread the word that I was a pain in the ass to work with. Little did he know he did me a favor, forcing me to go back to the type of photography I love.

"I'd love to chat, but it's late where I am, James."

" _Monday."_

"Yes, Monday. Good night." I hang up and take a swig of the whiskey. It feels very satisfying, knowing his destructive ego no longer has any control over me.

"Who was that?" Edward comes from the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

"The Hunter Agency. The son, James, tried to muscle Garrett into handing over my images from the shoot."

He frowns. "He's not allowed to see all the photos?"

"He's not my client, so only your mother gets access to the photos I decide to submit. Not every shot I took relates to the harvest, Edward." I stare at him, wondering if he'll put two and two together.

His eyes widen and he asks, "Not the photos of you and I...?"

"God, no." I'm surprised he leapt to the worst possible conclusion. "Those shots are safe, but I took hundreds of photos your mother hasn't seen." Running my hand down his arm, I say, "I'll show them to you tomorrow, handsome, and you'll understand."

Edward is already in bed when I come out of the bathroom and curl myself around him since I'll end up that way before morning. As I relax in the warmth of his arms, my mind drifts to tomorrow and Rose, wondering if she can sleep. It seems like they were getting so close to conceiving when this had to happen.

I have no idea how I would get through the night.

* * *

We arrive at the pathology lab, finding Rose and Emmett sitting in their Jeep. He gets out and comes around to open her door. I see him speak to her tenderly and she nods, getting down slowly as if she's injured or exhausted. For a second, I'm worried she's ill, but she straightens up and takes his hand firmly as if she's readying herself for the worst.

She greets us with the tiniest smile, saying she's pleased I changed my mind, and I can only try to comfort her by saying I have a feeling everything will be okay.

Carlisle's friend, Doctor Gerandy, is not actually there to meet us. He has arranged for someone else to help us fill in the forms. We have to give them urine samples as well as blood, and we leave the lab without a set time to return.

Edward offers to take us for a drive around Billings, and we agree when the big sky of Montana is blue. The weather is great.

Downtown Billings has a surprisingly metropolitan feel where architectural elements draw my eyes up from the restaurants and bars to well-preserved buildings that hint at an elegant past.

The people I'm seeing look just like inhabitants of Seattle, out walking their dogs or chatting and drinking coffee. I only spot an occasional cowboy hat. A food truck parked on the edge of a plaza is doing great business near a team of people dismantling a sound stage.

Billings has a vibrancy I was not expecting, without the crush of the Seattle traffic.

Edward proudly declares there are now seven beer distilleries here as he takes the road north and points out the town's sporting arena, Dehler Park, home to the Billings Mustangs baseball team. I don't tell him I've never heard of them before. We pass by the University of Montana as the road climbs the ridge toward the airport, and then we turn right.

In just a few minutes, he pulls in and we get out for the view of the Yellowstone River with its sandy islands and people kayaking down below. Two mountain bike riders whizz past, singing out a good morning we return.

Edward shows us the most popular spots for rock climbing on the vertical face of the ridges, called the "Rimrocks," explaining how they depict the ancient level of the sea. I ask him if he's ever tried climbing here and he shakes his head, saying there are large sections that have broken away and fallen. He believes it's too unstable.

Next, we drive to Lake Elmo State Park. While Rose and Emmett remain in the car, Edward and I get out and he tells me the area is packed in summer. There _are_ people enjoying the good weather, but only a few are in the lake. I can imagine it with crowds of families, picnicking while their kids squeal in the water, and I'm sorry I didn't bring my camera now, but I wasn't expecting this tour. Maybe if I'm nice to him, he'll bring me back in the Mustang.

Looking back at the pair still in the car, I ask, "Do you think they're okay?"

"Maybe lunch will take their minds off it for a while. How about the Bull Mountain Grill? It's not far from here."

It seems like nothing is far away in Billings. "Sure, that sounds great."

* * *

While we wait for our food, I ask Emmett if he knows anything about the magazine article and the urgent request for photos. He tells me hasn't spoken to his mother, having left the day after the harvest to join his wife. I ask where Rose is currently living, but Emmett answers, describing her transient lifestyle and how proud he is of the work she is doing.

"She's a natural with kids."

Rose looks away, caught up in her thoughts again, and I glance at Edward. Thankfully, the food arrives, and I watch Emmett's eyebrows waggling as he surveys his chicken fried steak.

"When the waitress asked if you'd like the lighter portion, the look on your face was priceless," I announce and Emmett laughs, slicing into his beef.

"Wanna bite?" Edward offers, and I moan when I taste the bacon and smoked brisket in his Bunkhouse burger. "Delicious," he adds, staring at my lips.

I'm about to admit that my Bull Mountain fish fry is every bit as good as my Dad's when I notice Rose pushing her food around the plate.

"Is your chicken all right?" I ask.

"Yeah." She shrugs. "I'm not really hungry."

The three of us try to keep Rose in the conversation, recalling the fun we had in Tulum. She finally perks up when I admit I saw her with Edward and assumed they were together. She glares at him and snorts. "I'm so glad we found you, Bella. No offence, but we didn't go to Mexico to listen to him talk about _you_ all day."

Looking at Edward, I see him narrow his eyes at her. She pokes her tongue out at him and laughs.

I tell them the photos of the whale sharks turned out so well that I plan to sell them as a collection, and ask if they'll approve the shots in which they appear. "I would love to see them," Rose answers with a smile.

"Sure," Emmett responds. "Anyone for dessert?"

When the call finally comes to say our test results are ready, we leave immediately and no one says a word on the drive back to the lab.

Doctor Gerandy introduces himself and Rose thanks him for taking time out of his Sunday. He chuckles, saying he doesn't actually do the tests himself. He's been playing eighteen holes of golf.

"Okay, let's get right to it." He shuffles through the papers, reading them first. "Rose Cullen and Isabella Black are both negative for hCG."

I look at Rose for an explanation, and instead of her standing and dancing, she's downcast. "It means we're not pregnant, Bella." There _were_ a lot of forms, but I didn't know they were testing me for pregnancy.

"Rose and Emmett Cullen are serum negative for Zika, Dengue and Chikungunya viruses. Serologic tests are negative for IgM antibodies." Rose's happy sounding squeal as she throws her arms around her husband is all I need to understand.

"Edward Cullen is RNA NAT serum positive for Zika virus with IgM antibodies detected. Negative for Dengue and Chikungunya. Urine tests confirmed." Now I hear Rose gasp.

"So, does that mean I have it?" Edward asks, anxiously. When Rose nods, he looks at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with the news.

Rose asks the doctor, "Can we catch it from him?"

I'm ready to chip in with what I read on the internet when the doctor holds up a finger. "Just a second. Let me finish. Isabella Black is serum positive for Zika virus with IgG antibodies but negative for Dengue and Chikungunya. Urine tests show identical results."

I'm actually not as devastated as I thought I would be. I knew there was a chance I was infected, but I have to look on the bright side—I'm not feeling sick and there's no need to worry about catching it from Edward now.

"Did you say IgG?" Rose asks.

"Yes," he answers, studying the results. "The antibodies indicate a previous exposure to the virus."

Rose shakes her head and smiles as she looks at me. "Bella, you were already immune."

I look at Edward while I puzzle over where I could have caught Zika before.

The doctor continues. "I'm not a contagious disease expert, but viruses tend to spread between humans the same way. Have Carlisle refer you to someone for a definitive answer."

We all leave the lab in our own little worlds and Rose says, "I'm sorry, you two, but I want to go home."

Edward responds. "Sure, Rose, I understand." She climbs up into the Jeep and we wave them off without any physical contact.

Blowing out a big breath, Edward looks miserable. "I think I should go home, too. I don't want to spread this around." I understand his need for the news to settle in, but I don't feel he should worry.

We climb into the car and I take his hand. "You know, on that website it says only a specific type of mosquito spreads the virus and they don't live this far north. There have been no reported cases occurring in Montana. In fact..."

I've been pondering for several seconds when he asks, "In fact what?"

"Florida and Texas _have_ had reported cases. My grandma lived in Jupiter, Florida, and Mom and I spent two weeks with her last year when she was dying. Then we stayed to clear out her home when she died."

He just nods, driving home in silence, obviously deep in thought. As soon as we're back at his place, I try to change the subject. "I want you to see all the photos from the harvest shoot. Then we need to call your mother."

"I won't be long," he responds, walking down the hallway. After a few minutes, I go looking and find him hunched over the computer in a spare room he obviously uses as an office. He has a timber drafting table near the window holding sheets of paper covered in hand-drawn ideas, arrows, measurements, and notations. Rolled up plans lean against boxes of things he's yet to unpack and I smile, admiring sketches stuck haphazardly to the walls, showing his artistic talent and appreciation for terrain.

Coming up behind him, I see he's researching the mosquitoes that carry the virus, his two enormous monitors full of web pages and maps of the world. The desk is free of clutter, the only thing of interest being some kind of trophy. It's quite beautiful, made of pale stone and timber, and when I read it, I see he's won an award for sustainability.

"You won an award?" I ask, pointing at the trophy.

"Yeah, I designed a net zero home here in Billings."

"Net zero?"

"The building itself generates enough energy to equal the power consumed on site."

I snort. "I was using a solar panel in Mexico and you never thought to mention this?"

When he doesn't answer, I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hand comes up to hold my forearm and I kiss his cheek, noting it's the first time I've done so since I found out he was sick. I've missed the feel of that beard. He spins his chair sideways and pulls me into his lap.

Moving my hair over my shoulder, he says, "I didn't want you to think I was tryin' to emulate you. We are alike, Bella." After a sigh, he adds, "I just knew we had a connection. The only woman I'm interested in can't catch this virus from me. Don't you think that's incredible?"

It _is_ incredible that with anyone else, he'd have to be very careful having sex for another six months and I nod, agreeing it _is_ a good omen for us. He kisses me sweetly, then smiles.

"Okay, gorgeous, where are these photos? Do we download them?"

"No, that would take forever. I have copies on my laptop." When I try to stand, he resists me going and pouts a little.

"You said hundreds, right?" he asks as he follows me into the bedroom. "We should probably find somewhere—comfortable." For a few seconds, the air is full of tension as our eyes flick between the bed and each other. "The couch or in here?"

"Uh…should we...?" All of a sudden, my brain is muddled. How he can have this effect on me, I'll never know.

"Bring it into the living room, Bella," he directs me, and I almost stumble when I walk in. He's already sitting sideways on the couch with one long leg stretched out in front of him and one bare foot on the floor, patting the spot between his legs. It's impossible not to stare at the area that gave me so much pleasure.

I sit down carefully and he pulls me closer, wrapping his legs around mine. "Comfy?" he asks and I nod, aware the folder of photos I'm about to show him is going to expose things about me. The list of files on the screen is in chronological order and ready to preview—a full record of the day—and I take a breath of courage because there is no turning back after this. He must already know the fact I'm here shows how much I like him, but this will reveal my falling in lust with the way he looks.

"Oh, it's still dark," he observes, seeing the first image of the field before he started the harvester. I remember its lights on, waking the sleeping barley for its haircut, and how quiet it was.

In the shots from the cherry picker, the sky changes from pink to blue while Edward takes the first cut of the field. As he passes by the house, I can clearly see it was him behind the wheel now, playing Guns 'N Roses.

Next is the burst of pictures where he's holding his niece and I lean back against him, seeing the photos in a brand new light. He's no longer my model or Dior Man. He's someone who has declared his intent to pursue a relationship with me, someone who has been open about the fact that he's ready to settle down and have a family. The images show more than just an adored uncle—they reveal his potential to be a gentle and caring father. I could look at them all day, but that would give me away even more.

Oh boy, here we go. I only submitted two images of him looking up at the harvester. The rest, where I asked him to take his shirt off, I kept for myself and now I have to speed through them, embarrassed there are so many they reveal the voyeur in me. As he comes down the hill to kiss me, and gets larger in the frame, I sense Edward becoming uncomfortable, moving his hips and legs.

"Jesus, I'm getting hard reliving this."

Remembering how it felt, I turn and scratch my fingers through his beard. "That first kiss was…"

"Not like a first kiss." He leans down, the perfect combination of masculine roughness and soft lips. With his hand enclosing my neck, our tongues meet and I'm his, ready to abandon the photos, imagining us naked and sweaty with him between _my_ legs.

Wanton thoughts invade my mind when I'm with Edward. Sometimes, he's like a porn movie playing in my head.

His hands squeeze my breasts and I'm moaning in his mouth, loving the sensual way he entices my nipples, when all of a sudden I'm scrambling to stop the laptop hitting the floor.

Someone is knocking on Edward's front door.

"Great timing," he mutters with a long sigh, and I take off to the bedroom. Breathless and blushing is not the way I want to meet someone he knows.

I hear a female say, "I came to see if you needed anything."

"No thanks, I'm fine." Edward's reply is surprisingly blunt.

"Are you ready to come home?" she asks, and now I'm interested in who belongs to the voice.

"This is my home now."

"This house, Edward—is really not fit for an architect's office. You can't possibly bring clients here." The huge exhale shows the man's frustration. He doesn't bother to respond and I don't blame him. "Why are you so suntanned and since when do you grow a beard?"

I poke my head out, ready to defend the man and his scrumptious beard. He's standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the open door like a bouncer, and I have to say, he looks every bit as enticing as he did on that hill at his parents' farm. The woman standing on the porch has silver blonde hair cut very short on one side and swept behind her ear on the other. She's stunning, but overdone in heels and Capri-length pants, heavy makeup, and perfume too rich in the air.

"I've been to Mexico on vacation."

"What? Who with?" She looks shocked and a little jealous if I'm reading her right.

"Emmett, Rose and…"

"Me," I announce loudly as I enter the living room.

Edward turns to me, missing the woman's eyebrows arch as she looks me up and down.

"Tanya, this is Isabella Black."

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Love and thanks to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, VampyreGirl86, and SarcasticBimbo - for every suggestion, every thing you find that I'm blind to.**_

 _ **Reviews: There were two standouts that really took my fancy this week - from CSG - "**_ ** _Go away, Tanya. They have pictures to look at," and from_** ** _Shamatt0403 -_** ** _"_** ** _Threaten to give her Zika and she'll run."_**

 ** _Too funny._**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 12**_

"The photographer?" Edward's ex turns a scowl on me.

"Hi," I respond with a forced smile, ignoring her hateful stare.

"You made her out to be a whole lot older."

Edward holds his arm out to welcome me, but I hesitate to approach, feeling incredibly awkward.

He turns back to Tanya. "What I said was her age didn't matter."

She snorts, a look of realization on her face. "You've been planning this all along. How convenient—breaking up with me so you could take _her_ to Mexico."

Oh boy. I pick up the laptop and place it on the kitchen counter, ensuring I can still hear and see everything.

"Look, Tanya, I don't have to answer to you because we _did_ break up, but it wasn't like that. I met Bella for the first time on the photo shoot at the farm. She was goin' to Mexico and we decided to join her."

Her eyes narrow, but I see her stand up straight and steady herself. The woman is still carrying a torch for Edward, and now she's unsure of herself. "I asked you to go away with me and you couldn't find the time."

"It was a last minute thing."

I notice he makes no apologies and she looks out at the street, as if going on will only cause more hurt. I feel for her, hitting the end of the relationship, because I've been there, felt the weight of the moment when there's no point continuing.

She pushes her hair behind her ear. "You took some of my music. Can I at least come in and get my CDs?"

"They're still in a box. Let's do this another time."

"I want them now," she demands, pressing on his chest as if she's going to shove him out of the way and barge in.

He takes a hold of her wrist to stop her. "Tan, keep your distance. I caught a nasty virus in Mexico and I'm still contagious."

Her eyes widen and then shift from Edward to me. "Aren't you contagious to her?"

"She caught it, too." It's actually a fine explanation, the truth using a minimum of words.

"Of course she did." Tanya rips her wrist from his grasp. Her lips twist in disgust and she backs away from him. "You drop them by when you're better."

"Sure," he responds, and she quickly gets in her car. He turns to me, blowing out a breath of relief.

"Tanya is nothing like I imagined, Edward."

"Yeah," he responds with a shrug. "She never used to be pretentious, but she's a chameleon, not confident enough to just be herself." Rose said Tanya played a role to hold on to her trophy boyfriend. "I don't want to waste another moment talkin' about her, Bella." He puts his hands on my waist. "You comin' here wasn't just about a blood test."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "No."

"You like me."

"Very much," I say with a smirk.

"And you said you'll talk to me."

"I will. I promise."

His forehead is suddenly lined with worry. "What is it? I'm dying to know."

"I'll tell you everything, but right now I have a job to do and you, Mr. Cullen, are very distracting." After a short sweet kiss, he releases me with a smile. "Can we call your mother? There are hundreds of images here, and I need to know what the article is about."

He calls Esme and it goes to voicemail. The same with his father. In frustration, he sits on a stool and tries Alice who _does_ answer. He puts her on speaker, and we hear the sounds of boisterous children in the background.

" _Edward! I'm glad you called. Katie wants to thank you for your gift. Katie, it's Uncle Ed."_

I frown and he explains. "It was her birthday this week. Sounds like they're having a party."

"What did you get her?" For some reason, I'm fascinated to know what Uncle Ed bought his niece.

"A pop up tent with fairy lights and a blow up mattress. They call it a princess tent."

"Awww." Just the fact that he sent her a gift is enough, but he really is a sweetheart. No wonder the girls adore him. I'm hugging his shoulders when a little voice speaks.

" _Unka Ed, I love my princess cave."_

"That's good, Katie. Are you having a party today?"

" _Gemma sicked up."_

He grimaces at me, half smiling. "Oh, did she?"

" _Pink popcorn sick all over the floor."_

"Well, it's always a good party if someone sicks up."

" _It was yucky."_

"Yeah, but she's only three and you're now six. Be a good sister and don't make her feel bad about it, okay?"

I lean my head on his shoulder, imagining him making a call like this to his daughter, _our daughter._

" _Okay."_

Katie must hand the phone over because we hear Alice call out, _"Dad! Did you want to talk to Edward?"_

The sound of laughter cuts out when Carlisle takes the call. I imagine him standing out by the smoker, taking in the glorious view. _"Hello, son. Did you get your test results?"_

"I was positive, Dad. Bella's had it before and Em and Rose are clear."

The sigh is audible. _"How are you feeling?"_

"I'm all right. Much better, actually."

" _Okay, don't cough or sneeze on anyone. Do I need to explain unprotected sex?"_

"No, Dad, I get it." Edward looks at me with eyes full of apology as if he's still upset I could have caught it from him. I rub his arm and he wraps it around me.

" _I'll come down next weekend and take a good look at you, but please call me if you feel strange in any way."_

"Will do. Is Mom there? We need to talk about Bella submitting more photos for some magazine article."

" _I'll try to get her."_

We wait while a chorus of happy birthday plays through the phone. It's kinda nice to feel part of the celebration.

With a big exhale, Esme picks up the phone. _"You went to Mexico?"_

"Yes."

" _You didn't think to tell us you were going out of the country?"_

"It was a vacation, Mom. I wasn't immigrating."

The huff is loud. _"Is Bella with you?"_

"Hi, Esme. James tells me you need more photos."

" _They want a story about Masen's Whiskey being a family concern. Do you have anything we can use?"_

"Yes, I have plenty. Can I send you an email with a share to a folder of photos?"

" _Alice will take care of that for me. I'm not good with the computer."_

"Okay, you'll have them later today."

" _Bless you, girl. I'm sorry, but I have to go and serve the birthday cake."_

Edward ends the call and then smiles at me. With his hands on my hips, I can see him forgetting I have work to do, so I kiss him and touch his face. "Why don't you go unpack some music and play it for me?"

His eyebrows lift just a touch. "You gonna boss me about now?" I'd take that as a challenge except his body language says something else. He's sizzling with sex appeal right now and he must know it. "Any hints on what you like?" he asks with a smirk.

"I want to hear what _you_ like, but if that box holds a collection of violent metal genres, I'm catching a plane back to Seattle."

"I have a Metallica album in there." He delivers the comment like a threat, and I laugh because it means he has no idea what I'm talking about.

"Metallica is fine." Now I wonder what he _will_ bring out. "What were you playing on your phone when we were away?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Well, we could start with that."

"We could." Fiddling with his phone, he catches me ogling his fine ass as he bends down to connect a speaker. "I don't have a fancy sound system."

"Neither do I," I respond, wondering if he's aware of what a temptation he is.

The intro to the first song sounds like country, but the big husky female voice is all blues. It's modern and catchy, not what I expected from Edward.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"Alabama Shakes."

He waits until I smile my approval. Then he leaves the room and I move to the beat, glad I am standing at the counter. I can dance while I create the new folder of photos for Esme Cullen. The first shots I add are of him holding his niece.

Viewing the images, there are several standouts of a shirtless Edward walking down the hill with the harvester in the background. I can't keep them for myself any longer—his mother should see her son, now a breathtaking man in his prime who looks like the type who works the land. It's all about his physique, his low-slung jeans, and the way the cowboy hat sits on his head.

Only I know the intent behind his purposeful stare in the shots—he was about to make me submit and kiss him.

I'm still deciding, knowing it's time I moved on, when he comes out with a stack of CDs, placing them on an empty shelf, then leaves.

The next song is familiar, and I'm sure I've heard it before, but I can't think of the name.

"Black Keys?" I ask when he returns with another pile of music.

"Yeah. 'So He Won't Break.' You like it?"

I nod, watching the way Edward's body strains against his shirt while he sorts the CDs. It's not until he's out of sight that I can focus on the photos again.

Shots of the underground home Edward designed have to be included, as well as those of the whole family around the table at lunch. I pick out those where Emmett looks hungry and appreciative of the food he's serving himself. Now I've seen another side of him, I'm sorry he was out of sorts that day, parted from his wife with a mother who didn't appreciate his importance in the harvest, and a father who didn't stand up for him.

Viewing the photos at the distillery, there are several of Edward and Jasper I must submit. Seeing them reminds me of how I felt while we were there—captivated by Edward. With the memory in my head, I stare when he returns, mesmerized by his presence.

Dragging my attention back to the photos, there is one of Edward looking over the harvested field I didn't include originally. The afternoon sun, turning his skin and hair golden, gives him a surreal quality. For someone who didn't know what we were talking about at the time, he looks sad that the crop is gone. I don't know if it's appropriate for the magazine, but there's a poignancy to the image that Esme might understand.

The shot where he's looking up at his t-shirt flying away in the wind brings back a feeling of elation. With the grand spectacle and muted colors of the Missouri Breaks in the background, it's a powerful image.

Now I have examples of everyone in the family except Rose, and I'm considering shots of her and Emmett in Mexico when I hear a song I know well. Bruce Springsteen's "Hungry Heart" makes me move my shoulders and sway my hips. As I sing along, Edward sidles over, taking my hand and pulling me to him. We sing the chorus together, laughing when he leans me back. Then he looks serious and laces our fingers together.

"I'm sweet on you, Bella."

This honest simplicity coinciding with the words of the song penetrates into my chest. Taking in every detail of his handsome face, I know my heart was hungry, starved of love and romance, but right now it feels fine. I watch as he kisses my fingers and my other hand slips into his hair. He stares at my lips for the second it takes to close the gap between us.

God, his passion, his tongue, the scratch of his beard drive me crazy. The kiss is seismic, vibrating all the way to my toes. With his hand under my t-shirt, his fingers caress the lace of my bra. Then he kisses my neck. "I never get to see you in underwear."

Except for the first time when I stripped in front of him, shedding a basic cotton bra and undies, I have always changed in another room. I packed all my best underwear for this trip, though, and I'm more than ready to show it off.

Lifting his jaw, I kiss him softly, and tell him to follow me, leading him to his bedroom where I have him sit on the bed. He stares as I slowly lift my t-shirt over my head and drop it in his lap. With a smile on his face, he holds it up to his nose. "Lady, you smell almost as good as you look."

His eyes, full of anticipation, make me feel sexy and I swing my hips, undoing my jeans. As I slide them down, his smile grows bigger. "That's more like it. Now where's that camera?"

I step out of the jeans and take the t-shirt. "Forget it, Cullen." A lucky fling lands my clothes on a chair.

He breathes out deeply, watching his hands roam over me. "Keep dancin'," he says softly, tracing the edges of my underwear. "I like to see you move."

He's doing it again, tapping into a sexuality I never knew I had, and I dance like I'm in a fantasy, confident and ready for anything. He told me he loves my hair so I lift it and allow it to fall all around me.

Groaning, he stands and pulls the covers down. "Lie down for me." It's reminiscent of our first time when Edward commanded and I surrendered to a complete physical experience I'll never forget.

I get comfortable and he joins me without removing his clothes. I'm disappointed he doesn't kiss me, only watching his hand move over my body. Whispering the word, "Jesus," he looks up and smiles in appreciation.

His fingers delve inside the lace of my bra and pull it down to tease a nipple. He smirks when it stands up for attention, but after only a tiny squeeze, he moves lower, running his palm over my stomach. A single finger draws a line from my navel to my clit and my hips rise to meet it, but he doesn't linger there, only giving me a taste of what's to come.

Again and again, he tortures me with his silken touch until I can't stand it any longer, holding his hand in place over my mound. "That's it," he says, gripping me tighter. "Show me what you want."

I can't find words to direct him—I just know I want more. Taking control of his hand, I slip it inside my underwear—the heat of shameless blush spreading over my chest when his fingers enter me and curl.

"Like that?" he asks and I nod, realizing my hips are already guiding him. I moan when his thumb finds its target and starts to circle.

Still craving his lips, I don't know where I want them most. I need another earth-moving kiss on the lips but other places are now screaming just as loud. Running my fingers over my exposed breast, I beg, "Please, here."

"Now we're gettin' somewhere," he responds, licking and sucking as I whimper in ecstasy. Our eyes lock when he releases my nipple and bites it gently. "Do you fantasize?"

 _Oh, God, yes. If he only knew it's him I see when I close my eyes. It's always him._

Panting, I answer. "Edward, you are in every one of my fantasies."

Suddenly, his lips are on mine and he's grinding against me. With my fingers gripping his hair, I hold on tight, feeling my toes curl over as an orgasm approaches. Breaking the kiss, he commands, "Not yet," and gets up from the bed, pulling his t-shirt off. Breathing hard, I watch him, expecting him to get a condom, when he pulls me down the bed and takes off my panties. Then he kneels on the floor and spreads my legs, the feel of his prickly beard against my inner thighs making me quiver.

Sweet Jesus, the man is good at this. Slowly at first, he teases me with his tongue and grazes me gently with his teeth. Then his fingers come into play and I moan loudly. Suddenly, he lifts his head, grinning.

"Please don't stop," I beg him, half out of my mind, and he watches closely as he lowers his face.

With my eyes closed tight and my body rigid, I let his tongue take me to the place where I explode, over and over. I want to tell him I love him, that no one has ever given me this kind of pleasure, but I hold back. They'd only be words uttered in the throes of passion.

Instead, I sit up and show him with a kiss. His erection, now pressed against my leg, is straining against his jeans, so I undo them and take it into my hand, tracing the ridges and stroking him while I watch his reaction.

"Jesus, you are _my_ fantasy," he responds, his breath hitching when I ease down his jeans. Staring as he takes them off, I move back and lay my head on the pillow, hyper aware I've just had an orgasm, my body aching to take him inside me. I smirk when he finally goes for a condom, amazed by how quickly it's on and he's back on the bed. When I turn to him, there's no holding him back—the way he kisses is unstoppable—and I respond with equal passion, moaning when he moves to my neck. "There ain't nothin' better than having you in my bed."

Humming, I respond without thinking. "I could stay in your bed forever." When he lifts his head, his face is plastered with a great big smile.

He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, and my lips. Then he enters me and our hips meet each other and retreat, slowly, sensually. My hands slide down the sexy curve of his back and find their place on the sweet cheeks of his ass.

This is the sex I've been wanting all my life. Five minutes of intercourse with Jake used to feel like an eternity, but a lifetime of Edward overwhelming me with this kind of sensation could never be enough. Being able to kiss while we fuck is the richest icing on the cake and I moan, showing every bit of my lust for this man. I'm not ready when the approaching orgasm conquers me and, in turn, conquers him. He finds his release in a fit of swear words and then rolls us so he's on his back. God, I love the way he squashes me in a hug.

Edward plays with my hair as he catches his breath. "You _could_ stay forever."

I should have known he'd take what I said literally, so I raise my head and look him in the eyes.

"You know those words came from my heart. My head might need more time to make that kind of commitment."

"Maybe, but now I've got your body _and_ your heart. Two outta three ain't bad."

He doesn't give me a chance to respond, silencing me with a luscious kiss, releasing the hooks on the back of my bra.

 ** _Thanks for reading xo_**

 ** _Tell me what it is about cliffies that some of you hate and others like? I'm fascinated._**


	13. Chapter 13

_**It feels like I have two Harvestward Teams - with Ipsita and Nic pre-reading so far ahead, and VampyreGirl86, and SarcasticBimbo checking my words just before posting. Thank you all for your help with this, truly.**_

 _ **Reviews: Loved all the feedback on cliffies, especially this one from**_ ** _AnakinSmom_** _ **\- "**_ _ **Some cliffies are like a guy pulling out and walking away before I'm finished." LOL. The consensus is that you don't hate them as long as you trust the writer to update quickly. I shifted the end of this chapter so it didn't end on the HUGE cliffie I originally planned :)**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 13**_

Edward sleeps while I work on the photos for Esme, and there are two great images of Emmett and Rose I want to include. By blurring the background and softening the heat, I easily take the "Mexico" out of the shots.

Sending them to Emmett's phone, I ask for permission to submit them for the magazine article. Thrilled when he sends back a _"YES,"_ I ask how they're doing.

He replies right away. _"Okay, a few tears,"_ and now I feel terrible when Rose is probably devastated she isn't pregnant, and I've gone and sent them images of a couple on vacation, happy and relaxed. Not knowing the right way to respond, I don't.

I finish adjusting the color and tone of all the others until I'm satisfied and, once I upload, I send an email to Esme. Deciding not to mention the inclusion of Rose, I only ask her to call if she has problems viewing the contents of the folder, and if she would like me to handle the transfer of the photos to the agency. James tends to waffle and confuse clients by over-complicating anything technical.

Then I go in to check on Edward who has been out cold for hours. While he insists he's feeling better, he must still need sleep to recover. Taking in his almost irresistible beauty, I could so easily get back in his bed and stay there forever, but Angie's pep talk in the car is playing in my head.

" _Don't wear rose-colored glasses, okay? You know what makes you miserable and you must open up to this man if you want a relationship."_

I go snooping around his home. He hasn't been living here long, but there should be telltale signs of annoying everyday habits somewhere.

Even though he's only just trimmed his beard, the bathroom is free from the maddening trail of hair around the faucet and drain. There's not much inside the medicine cabinet, and I stare at the bottle of Dior Homme, wondering if _she_ bought it for him.

His ex could be an issue. Tanya was hardly cutting ties by driving over and asking if he was coming back home. Edward certainly didn't encourage her, but I wonder what she'll do when I'm not around. Closing the cabinet, I look at my reflection and sigh.

Checking out the contents of his fridge, I'm pleased he keeps a supply of real food: milk, eggs, sliced ham and cheese, fresh veggies, mushrooms and salad. A pull-out drawer holds well-used jars of garlic, ginger and a few curry pastes. There's a nice loaf of bread on the counter, so he probably went out for supplies for my arrival, and I'm impressed there's enough here if we don't want to go out. I laugh when I open the freezer to find two pieces of ribeye and a pint of Ben and Jerry's Half Baked.

Without art on the walls and nothing personal on display, his CDs are the only things to enlighten me. The playlist from his phone ended a long time ago and I took no notice once I got Edward in bed. Flipping through the albums on the shelf, there are country bands I've never heard, old rock classics, and my own taste reflected in a collection of folk and indie rock, some of which I have myself.

With a grin on my face, I walk into his office and notice a large cardboard folder tucked in between two boxes. Inside is the story of a project, starting with sketches and notes, abandoned ideas and others he incorporated, evolving into expertly drawn plans. The design is made up of two buildings, one larger than the other, connected by a corridor. On closer inspection, the dates indicate the smaller section is new—an extension housing more bedrooms and a bathroom. The clients must have been happy with their home to ask him back, and that says everything about the quality of his work.

Setting the plans aside, I take a fresh look at the sketches he's stuck on the wall. There's no question he appreciates the outdoors, and in that regard, I sense a kindred spirit. It's just strange that he's chosen to live in this tiny house in the center of Billings.

Angela would have me question his decision and what I'd be gaining by moving here. Do I like this town? It has something, but I'd be trading a large city for a smaller one, and that's not where I see my future. I'm well aware that evil people, drugs and temptation are found in every corner of the country, but the stories Jake brought home from his job on the Seattle PD convinced us we'd never bring our kids up in a city.

Those days when we planned a future together are long gone now. Jake left Seattle the day I used the word "separation" and went home for good. Even if I wanted to, I can't go back to Forks, so it's unlikely our paths will cross again.

Apart from my friends, I am alone, but I feel lucky to have choices. It's just a shame I'm wary of making them.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I turn around and find Edward leaning against the door jam. His eyes land on the plans I've left sitting on his desk.

"I'm sorry. I was just looking at your work."

As I start to pack the plans in the folder, he says, "That's the house that won the award."

"You're building an extension?"

He looks pleased with my question. "Yes. They need more bedrooms and more roof for solar tiles."

"Can I see it while I'm here?"

A frown crosses his forehead. "Maybe next time. The couple who live there are friends of mine."

I wait, confused when he doesn't expand. "You don't want me to meet your friends?"

"No, it's not that. Emily's pregnant. I won't risk infecting the baby."

"Oh, of course. I understand."

"I'll call them. She's going to her family to prepare for the birth anyway. They might have already left."

He goes to get his phone and I call out, "So we'll only see the outside?"

"I have a key. I stayed there for three weeks before I moved here."

Wow. They must be good friends if they took him in when he left his girlfriend. I've never had that kind of relationship with a client, so I'm sorry I won't get to meet them.

He comes back, shrugging his shoulders. "No answer. They're probably…having the baby right now." I note the nervous expression on his face.

"Is this their first baby?"

"Yeah." He sighs. "Emily's giving birth at the Crow Reservation where her mother works as a midwife. I hope they know what they're doing." I watch him run a hand through his hair. "There's a hospital nearby, so there _is_ some backup."

The look he gives me doesn't fill me with confidence. It sounds like a home birth, but I'm not going to question something I know nothing about.

"These people are important to you, aren't they?"

"Yes. You'll see when you meet them. Sam is a great engineer, and I recommend him when I need one. Emily is unique and warm. She'll be a good mother."

"Did Tanya like them?" I need to know how she fitted into his life and where I should be careful. This couple could be good friends of hers, too.

He snorts. "I only took her there once. Emily is Native American and Tanya can be—judgmental." I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Holding back a smile, I'm aware I'm becoming possessive.

Edward asks if I'm hungry, but I tell him I'm still full from lunch. When he offers to make French toast, I stop myself from saying I'll do it and park my butt on the counter instead. Admiring a man working in the kitchen beats the hell out of shooing him away when he lifts the lid on the saucepan and asks what we're having tonight. Whisking eggs never looked so good.

I'm ogling him, replaying the afternoon's activities, when he puts down the bowl and kisses me, teasing me by pulling away as my eyes close. After that, I touch him with my bare foot every chance I get. I could get used to flirting in his kitchen—that is until he looks like he's going to sprinkle salt and pepper on the French toast.

"What are you doing?" I challenge him.

"Huh?"

"Sugar, Edward. You put sugar on French toast."

"No, I prefer it this way." Jumping down, I start searching through cupboards. "I don't have any sugar, Bella."

"No sugar?" He's already grinding black pepper over his toast, and we reach a standoff while he waits for me to make a decision. With a little sigh, I give in. "Okay, I guess I can try it your way."

After a couple of bites, I'm honestly surprised I never eaten it like this. When I nod my approval, Edward grins and kisses me.

* * *

The next morning, we're in bed, spooning under the duvet. The temperature dropped overnight and I woke up with him curled around _me_. Edward stirred a while ago, burying his face in my hair and tightening his hold around my waist. I've been awake ever since, enjoying his warmth and wishing every day could start like this.

He wakes up and kisses my shoulder, then runs his lips from the base of my neck to my ear. "God, you smell so good," he groans. "I could eat you for breakfast." I reach back to caress his head. It's downright sinful what his beard does to me. At this rate, I'll be the one eating him.

Pressing my backside against him, I move his hand up to cup my breast. There's an ache inside me declaring it wants sex.

"I did have other plans for today," he says between soft kisses.

"Hmm?" I'm glad it sounds like he's changing his mind.

"Last night you must have asked me fifty questions."

I turn around in his arms and smile. He looks adorable with his bed hair and sleepy green eyes. "I can't help it if you fascinate me."

"And I answered every one."

"You did."

"But you still managed to deflect mine."

"All right," I respond bravely, feeling the flutter of nerves in my stomach. "What do you want to know?"

"Is your ex-husband still gonna be in your life?"

I understand his interest when I'm going home in a few days, but it suggests a lack of trust, and my old self rears up to retaliate. "You mean like your ex is still in your life?"

He snorts and rolls over on his back. "It's a yes or no answer, Bella."

"Are you jealous?"

After a sigh, he says, "Every time I ask you something, you turn it back on me with a question of your own. I still know hardly anything about your life."

"She's still in love with you, Edward."

"Okay." He gets out of bed in a huff and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. "This is ridiculous. We don't have a relationship if you won't talk to me." After yanking a t-shirt over his head, he walks out and then comes back, "And it's not the same. I wasn't married to Tanya for years."

I see anger flaring in his eyes. "How long _were_ you together?"

He just shakes his head in disappointment and leaves.

The duvet pulled around my face does nothing to comfort me. With eyes brimming with tears, the last thing I want to do is fight with Edward. When Angela advised me to open up, she knew why I avoid the dark in my past. I still get angry that an act of evil changed the course of my life and I've hated having to justify that what I did was worth all the hostility and everything I lost. It's easier to never mention it happened.

Most people don't realize I answer in half-truths, but Edward saw my reaction when he asked me a seemingly simple question—how a ranger becomes a photographer. It's clear he won't accept any more sidestepping, but he doesn't know I'm dreading his reaction. If he believes I made the wrong choice, then we are fundamentally different, so I may as well go home now, and that will break my heart.

I'm just about to get up and apologize when he comes in and sets down a cup of coffee on the nightstand. "Whatever it is, Bells, it will be all right. Let's start the day over and go look at the house."

Without knowing, he's used the name my dad calls me. I throw my arms around his neck and sink into his chest while he rubs my back.

Oh, Edward. Maybe it _will_ be all right.

* * *

It doesn't matter that I know he's buttering me up so I'll answer his questions. I'm just excited we're taking the Mustang out for a drive. Esme already called and told me she's happy to share the entire folder with the agency, so now I have days of vacation to look forward to.

I've taken so many photos of Edward in the car he's asked me to put the camera away and choose a radio station. Although I don't want to drown out the sound of the engine, it's so satisfying pressing in these buttons that click. I end up choosing Cat Country's enthusiastic DJ announcing we're listening to Brooks and Dunn's "Red Dirt Road."

"Is this new?" I ask, shoulder dancing in the passenger seat. It is kinda catchy.

"No, it's as old as the hills." He glances over with a soft smile. Someone honks their horn and I grin, seeing a man give him the thumbs up. I bet he gets comments wherever he goes—a beautiful man driving a beautiful Mustang.

"What year is this car?" I inquire, in a much better mood since the heaven-sent hug.

"1973."

"Have you done much to it?"

He gushes out a big breath of air. "You mean apart from rebuilding the engine, the body, replacing the baby-shit brown interior, radio, power steering, brakes and electric roof? Nah, not much."

I giggle. "Jake rebuilt bikes before we were married."

"Is that what he did for a living?"

"In Forks, yeah. Then he joined the Seattle Police. Dad encouraged him."

"So your ex-husband and father are both cops."

"Yep, except Jake hated being a cop in Seattle."

"Is that why you married him, because he was like your dad?"

It's a question I've been asked before, but to answer it properly involves the much longer story, and I'd rather let my good mood run for a while longer. "Yes, they did have some similarities."

"But he wasn't like you."

"No, we made each other miserable."

"When did you know it was time to split? I started making excuses for not driving home from Red Lodge on weeknights when it was only sixty miles from Billings."

I can imagine Tanya hating him for that, but I know the feeling, wanting to avoid confrontation.

"I gave Jake a bottle of cologne and he only sniffed it once, telling me to give it to Dad because he wouldn't wear it."

"Is that it?" Edward asks, incredulously.

"It was the last straw of many last straws, believe me. I knew then and there that Jake would never bend to accommodate me. He was too self-centered to accept something for no other reason than I liked it. The cologne was merely symbolic. It could have been a sweater or any other gift."

"What was the cologne?"

"Dior Homme—the very first thing I noticed about you."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Alice gave it to me for my birthday."

"I thought it might have been Tanya."

"No, she didn't like it either."

I break into laughter, expecting him to join me. Instead, I watch his expression stiffen as he slows the Mustang to a crawl.

"Damn. Sam's car is here."

A door opens and a man comes out waving. Edward inches the car forward hesitantly and the man holds his hands out, questioning this strange behavior. He's not tall like Edward and looks like a guy who's put on a few pounds from being happily married. Wearing a checked shirt, he's more "country" in comparison to Edward's t-shirt du jour that says, "I love cats, but I can't eat a whole one." I found out last night that the funny t-shirts he and Emmett wear came from their mother. They might have a slightly strained relationship with Esme Cullen, but she does have a good sense of humor.

"What are you doing, Cullen?"

"I was hoping to show Bella the house!"

"From the street?" I can see Sam's frown now we're getting closer.

"No, I thought you might have left already."

"Another week to go, so you can come on in."

"I can't, Sam. I caught a virus in Mexico I don't want to pass on."

"What did you get—Dengue?"

"No, Zika."

"Oh, then you don't have to worry. We've both had Zika before."

"What? You sure it was Zika?"

"Yeah, Emily will tell you all about it."

I grab Edward's hand and smile when he looks at me, astounded. He pulls the Mustang into the driveway and introduces us. Sam's mouth turns up in a smile and Emily comes out, flipping a dish towel over her shoulder, smiling when she sees Edward.

"I thought you might be havin' that baby by now," Edward calls to her. It's obvious from her sigh and the hand holding the underside of her enormous belly that she's over the pregnancy.

"Yeah, I did, too," she says with a pout.

"Emily, listen to me. Have you really had Zika virus? I'm contagious."

"Yes, and we can't catch it twice, so you can stay for lunch. This kid is telling me I need red meat today." Even though she looks tired, her smile is confident and welcoming. As we get out of the car, her eyes dart from me to Edward.

"Sorry, this is Bella."

"Nice to meet you, Emily."

"From the matching suntans, I'm guessing you're the girl he followed to Mexico?"

When I nod, Edward adds, "Yeah, and we were having a great time until I ruined everything by getting sick."

"You didn't ruin anything, Edward." Turning to Emily, I add, "It was entirely his hotel's fault. The room wasn't sealed properly and he was eaten alive overnight."

"Ah…but see that's the trap everyone falls into. They tell you to load up on insect repellant at sunrise and sunset but those particular mosquitoes bite during the day. They get you when you've been swimming or sweating your protection off. You don't even know you've been bitten."

"I didn't know that. Where did _you_ catch it?"

Sam opens the screen door and holds it open for us. When we enter, I realize I was expecting a net zero house to be stark and functional. While the height of the ceiling makes the space look impressive, this is a real home with warm personal touches everywhere: drawings and paintings, a whole wall of photos, collections of Native American art. The timber kitchen looks like a one-of-a-kind and is slightly cluttered. Further back is the corridor that must lead to the new extension.

With some effort, Emily lowers herself to the couch and lifts her legs up. I notice her ankles are swollen. "It had to be our trip to Peru—Lima most probably. Everywhere else we went was high country where the mosquitoes don't live. Neither of us got sick so we didn't find out until much later."

"How did you find out?" I sit down opposite her, drawn into her easy manner. Glancing at Edward, I see him waiting with Sam.

"Are you coming with us?" he asks.

"I'll be there in a sec."

Emily continues. "My doctor is very thorough, so when I told her I was planning to fall pregnant, she had me fill out a form. One of the questions asked if I'd traveled to any of the areas marked on the map and I had to answer yes to South America. Both of our blood tests showed we both had a certain type of antibody."

"IgC." I remember Rose questioning it. "I'm the same. We just had the tests done and I've had Zika, too. I'm guessing I caught it in Florida."

"In the States? Jesus, that's scary. When we found out what Zika can do to an unborn child…I'm so glad I caught it before."

Thinking of Rose struggling yesterday, I have to agree. "Me, too."

"People need more specific warnings. There must be repellents that last longer than others. Can you get waterproof repellent?"

"I don't know, but that's a really good idea."

Emily tells me to go see the new extensions, saying she will wait for our return. I find Edward, standing with Sam outside, tilting louvers that extend over a walkway.

Looking around, their garden is young but thriving. There's a raised box area where they grow vegetables and a row of pine trees planted along the edge of the property. It makes me jealous of what they have—a home and a baby soon to be born.

"See our solar louvers? These babies alone will power the bedrooms."

"The whole roof is solar tiles," Sam adds, beaming with pride. I take a few steps back to see for myself but they don't really look different from normal roof tiles. "They're coming back to finish the bathroom this week, so my goal is to paint and have us moved in before we bring the baby home."

"Do you want some help?" Edward asks.

"Honestly? Yes, if you've got time."

"I'll make time, Sam."

I watch Edward, right in his element, and wonder how flexible his work schedule actually is. He somehow made time to take a vacation to Mexico and now he's ready to give his time to help Sam. Maybe he can juggle jobs if something is important to him. With a small amount of planning, I could do the same myself.

During the grand tour, where I fail to comprehend the mountain of technical detail, I find out this extension was built in a factory and delivered here, mostly complete. The on-site assembly only took a few days and, from the way they are talking, it's been a big success.

I come back in to discover Emily chopping salad vegetables.

"I'll do that!" I say to her, shooing her back to the couch. "Please let me invade your kitchen. I love it."

She laughs, enjoying the compliment. "Edward helped me design the kitchen and Dad built it. It works for me."

"Is your father a builder?"

"He has a factory where they make cabinetry for kitchens and bathrooms, but he's expanding the business. Dad worked with Sam and Edward to build the extension for this house."

"Wow. You know an engineer, an architect and a builder."

"Believe me, I know I'm lucky, and these kit homes could be a great future for our family and for Edward. Heaven knows I'm never going to contribute much to our income."

I don't understand the comment. "Because you want a big family?"

"No, because I fluffed about for years, changing courses and careers. I'm not like you—a sought after photographer."

"I'm hardly that, Emily."

"I bought one of your photos," she says, excitedly.

"Really?" Suddenly, I'm intrigued. "Which one?"

"I'll get it and show you." She strains to get up, even when I say it's not necessary. When she comes back with the frame, I stare at the image, relieved it no longer stirs my emotions. "It's three generations, right?"

"Yes."

"And a wolf. Who are they?"

I start chopping, not waiting for instructions. "They're Quileute, a small tribe in the Pacific Northwest where I grew up. The wolf is one of two they rescued and domesticated. They live with them like pet dogs."

"The way it stares at them from the background…It's like it's about to attack."

"No, the wolves protect them. They protected me, too, when I lived there. The tall man is Jake, my ex-husband."

Finding a bowl, I scrape capsicum and cucumber into it, adding a large handful of baby spinach. There's a Spanish onion on the counter, and I break up a few slices into the bowl, leaving most of it spare.

"The old man looks withered and shrunken but he wears a highly decorated ceremonial costume."

"Yes." I remember how proud Jake's grandfather was that day and how it showed in his satisfied expression. "He was chief."

The leftover onion gives me an idea for the red meat Emily is craving, so I go searching and find almost everything I need. Instead of burgers, there are juicy looking T-bones in the fridge, and I grin when I find feta cheese and olives, perfect to finish my salad.

"The father is decorated, too, but in a different way."

"You made the connection." I smile at her, impressed she's worked out what ties the three men together. It helped the image win first place in the competition. Billy Black sits in his wheelchair between his father and son, wearing his war medals with honor.

"Well, I've looked at it enough times."

"Billy served during the Iraq invasion. He took shrapnel to his spine and hasn't walked since."

"Oh...the poor man."

"He gets around. He goes fishing with my dad."

Finding a small saucepan and heating it on low, I finely chop the onion and grab another for good measure, following the Gordon Ramsay method of chopping onions without crying. The man may be foul-mouthed and arrogant at times, but he gives great advice on YouTube. Leftover barbecue sauce is always handy, and I have to say mine is pretty awesome for how easy it is. As Gordon would say, "Olive oil...in, onion...in...and caramelize."

"Your ex is decorated with a tattoo."

Glancing up and nodding, I keep stirring the onion. "But Jake paid for his decoration. He didn't earn it."

The sweeping, sharp-edged black shapes were a bold statement I grew used to seeing on Jake. He imagined they made him look strong and attractive, but I always thought they were menacing. The tattoo was almost a stumbling block to his acceptance into the police academy when he had to prove his summer uniform would cover it.

I add garlic, then sugar, ketchup, and a few splashes of Worcestershire sauce while Emily is still deconstructing the photograph. "I like the smoke from the campfire behind them. It gives me a sense that this might not be where they live permanently and makes me ask questions."

"No, that _is_ where they live. They're just not into lawns and planting gardens. They live pretty rough because most of the wives have died or left the reservation."

"Is this him?" I turn around, seeing Edward leaning over Emily's shoulder, studying the photo. When I nod, he raises his eyebrows. "Big dude."

Emily's forehead fills with lines of curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up marrying one of them?"

They're both waiting for my answer and a gnawing feeling deep in my gut proclaims itself. It's like being cornered, desperate to find safety. Edward's eyes are trapping me, reminding me I made a promise, and all I can do is take a big breath and try to relive the feeling of him hugging me this morning.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thanks to Ipsita and Nic for pre-reading, and to VampyreGirl86 for her beta skills. SarcasticBimbo couldn't join us this week, so all mistakes are my own.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 14**_

Emily breaks our stare. "I don't mean to pry, Bella."

"They only divorced a few weeks back," Edward explains.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. Forget I asked."

I take a shaky breath. "No, it's okay. Jake and I had known each other since we were kids. Dad and Billy are good friends, and when they went fishing, we'd both tag along. We didn't go to school together, but we always acknowledged each other around town. My friends gave me a hard time because he was one of _them, but_ I defended our friendship.

"Jake became my protector when I had to leave home. He got me through a really bad patch in my life, and I made the stupid mistake of marrying him."

Edward leans on his elbows, hands clasped together. From his expression, I can tell he thinks I'm giving nothing away when I've just told him almost everything he needs to know.

"Why did you need protection?" Emily asks.

Steadying my hand, I place the lid on the saucepan, turn down the heat, then look at Edward, recalling the last time I reached this point in the story and couldn't go on.

"Remember how I said there's never been a bear attack on a human in the Olympic National Park?" When he nods, I take strength from Angela's words of encouragement to open up and trust him. "A man was murdered in the park and the killer tried to make it look like a black bear killed him."

"How do you do that?" Edward asks, frowning.

"It's kinda gruesome. Do you really want to know?"

They glance at each other, and Emily crosses her arms over her belly as if to protect her child. "Go on," she says.

"I want to know every detail," Edward responds, leaning forward.

 _Here goes._

"You shoot a bear in the head and cut off its paw. Then you claw a man to death with it."

"Oh, Christ," he replies with his face screwed up. Emily's hand flies to her mouth.

 _I did warn them._

"I was an assistant park ranger at the time."

"A ranger?" Emily's eyebrow lifts as she looks down my body.

I'm used to that reaction. "I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"Yoga," Edward adds, leaning against her.

"Okay." She nudges him back and then frowns, like she's missing something. "So…are you still a ranger? I thought you were a full-time photographer."

"Let her keep going," Edward urges, staring at me.

"Not anymore." I shake my head. "We were the ones who found the body and, after the forensic team left, we discovered the dead bear." Edward watches me intently now, playing with his lips. "After we searched the area, we couldn't find the bullet or the paw, so I only had photos and samples of blood to give to my father once we got back to town."

"Why give them to your father?" Emily asks. "Isn't there some protocol for this kind of thing?"

"Normally, we'd report back to the ranger station, but it was already a police matter. My father's the chief of police."

"Oh," she responds, seemingly satisfied.

"We arrived back in Forks to find every redneck within fifty miles already in town, ready to hunt bear. They jeered at us as we drove down the street, calling for bear culling. Peter, the other ranger, was worried this was going to explode, giving gun-toting-do-gooders a reason to slaughter innocent animals."

"And you knew it wasn't a bear attack." Edward suggests.

"Well…what we'd found proposed an alternative. Anyway, things didn't add up. We knew black bears were not aggressive by nature, and this was a really vicious kill. Starving bears might fight each other for fish at the beginning of spring, but the park had an abundance of food in early summer. A female would give a warning if someone came close to her cub, but with some yelling, the baby would return and they'd soon disappear. These men regularly visited the park, so they should have been well aware that black bears are timid and good at bluffing."

"Is there such a thing as a rogue black bear?" Edward poses a very good question.

"Yes, there is, but it's rare—only sixty attacks in the last hundred years across the whole of America, and almost always the victim was partially or completely eaten."

Emily's eyes are enormous as she stares at Edward. He looks like he's shaking some thought from his brain.

"Another mystery was that no one heard anything, not a gunshot or a scream. The man took off without warning anyone of the danger, even though he'd just witnessed a frenzied and brutal attack on his friend. He hiked four hours to their vehicle and waited until he was back in Forks to report what happened."

"A four hour hike?" Emily looks shocked. "Isn't that a long way to send you in on foot?"

"Not really. We were searching for two men who hadn't returned from a weekend fishing trip, and they'd given us their description and the locations where they usually camped. Honestly, we were assuming they overstayed when the fish were biting. People get caught up and forget they have family who worry and report them missing. Anyway, we had everything in our packs, prepared to stay overnight."

"You don't get scared being that far from civilization?" Emily asks.

"No, I've been camping since I was a kid, and Peter was with me. He'd been a ranger for years."

"You still didn't say why you needed his protection," Edward notes, playing with his lips again.

When I hesitate, Emily gets down from her stool. "The poor girl is sick of our questions, Edward. Where's my Sam? We need to light up the grill."

"He was on the phone," Edward responds, still looking at me while Emily goes off to round up her husband. "There's more, isn't there? Were you involved in the murder trial?"

"Yes, I presented our evidence in court."

"So, were you threatened?" When I nod, he asks, "Verbal or physical?"

I can now feel a tear trying to escape my eye. "Both."

"Oh, baby." Like a flash, he's next to me, cradling my head against his chest. I feel relieved, having given him the bare bones of the story without breaking down, and while he's said he wants every detail, it can wait until we're alone. With his arms around me, encasing me in warmth, I close my eyes and let the awful memories drift away.

* * *

There are no more difficult questions, and lunch is informal and relaxed, full of playful jibes between the three good friends. My made-from-scratch barbecue sauce is completely devoured and Emily asks for the recipe. I'm comfortable in the warm welcome they've given me, and I like the feeling of closeness, as if Edward has found a family away from home. It reminds me of my Seattle clan: Angela, Ben, and Tyler, and I feel the twinge of sadness knowing that's all about to change. Angela and Ben will be married and living together, and Tyler's fashion career is poised to take off. If his collection is a success, he could be in New York by Christmas.

Emily rests against Sam as his hand moves slowly over her the expanse of her tummy. "I don't think you're going to last another week, love." She covers his hand with hers and he looks at us. "She's putting on a brave face for you guys but she's exhausted from this pregnancy."

I admire him for the way he openly shows how much he cares for her. I can see they will be wonderful parents, and I offer up one of the few things I know about babies. "Did you know that more babies are born around this time of year than any other?"

"No, why is that?" Emily asks.

"It's nine months from Christmas." I join in when they look at each other and chuckle.

"And it's Bella's birthday tomorrow," Edward adds, smugly. Since he hadn't mentioned it, I thought he might have forgotten.

"You should take her to Yellowstone, Edward." Emily urges. "Have you been before?"

"Could we?" I ask excitedly, imagining I could actually see the mother of all national parks while I'm here. "I've always wanted to go."

"Uh...I'm not sure what condition it's in." He shrugs and looks at her. "There have been wildfires lately."

"I don't mind." Hell, I've seen national parks at their best and their worst. It's Yellowstone for Christ's sake.

Emily continues. "In case you haven't heard, Edward, the fires are subsiding, and most of the blazes were in the west anyway. You could take her down through Canyon to the lake."

"Well…" he pauses. "I do have a meeting in Red Lodge on Thursday morning."

"Is that _still_ going on?" Sam asks.

"It's just the signoff—and I'm getting paid." He does a cute little dance with his arms.

"You should get down there tonight." Emily suggests. "You need to see Lamar in the morning."

"What's Lamar?" I ask.

Sam answers. "It's the valley you drive through to reach Yellowstone. There's wildlife early if you're lucky."

"I'm happy to go early." Oh my God, this would be a birthday to remember.

The boys tell us to relax while they tidy up, and Emily sighs as she watches them. Edward leans down to kiss me when they retreat to Sam's office.

"He's happy," she remarks with a satisfied smile. "He hasn't been like this in ages. I tried to set him up with a friend of mine, but…" She raises her eyebrows.

"It didn't go well?" I can't wait to hear this.

"They only had one date. She said she found him intimidating." I hold my hand over my mouth, trying to prevent myself from laughing out loud. "What?" she asks. "I don't see it. He's not like that at all."

"I thought he was intimidating when I first met him, but now I know him a little more, I'd say 'confident' is a better word."

"I was so glad he broke up with his last girlfriend." After a sigh, she goes on. "She didn't approve of us."

"What's not to approve? You have a lovely home, a happy marriage and a baby on the way. She must have been jealous."

She shakes her head. "No, to her, we're Crow Indians and not fit company for the likes of her man."

"Edward said you were Native American. He didn't mention anything about Sam."

"I'm a full-blood and Sam's grandmother was Crow, but this child will be half. I don't fully understand it. They have complicated methods of classification when you enroll."

"Enroll?" I've never heard of anyone enrolling as a Quileute.

"We're enrolled as Crow Indians. The percentage is tied up in maternal versus paternal lineage and whether we grew up on the reservation."

"Did you live there?" I bet it was nothing like the res at La Push.

"Yes, until high school. Then I moved into town with Dad."

"Oh…did your parents divorce?"

"They never got married." Her grin is so mischievous that I have to hold back a giggle. "I'm a bastard Crow Indian and proud of it." She cracks up, then holds onto her stomach. I'm on my feet without thinking, ready to do something, but she blows out a big breath slowly, and then settles back.

"Are you okay?" I ask nervously.

"It's definitely starting," she says, rubbing soothing circles over her belly. "I've had pains on and off for a week."

"Should you be…?" My words fade out as I have no idea what she should be doing.

She waves her hand in the air as if it's nothing. "These contractions are a good thing apparently. The more I have beforehand, the quicker the labor, so Mom says."

"Edward told me she's a midwife."

"She uses traditional methods for birthing, but I trust her. My mother has delivered thousands of babies and never lost one yet." With her eyebrows raised, she adds, "Mind you, she has sent a few women off in an ambulance."

When our laughter dies down, I ponder this very special time in her life, and ask if she would like to pose for a portrait, a record of who she was as she embarked on motherhood. When I grab my camera and suggest we include some of her favorite things in the image, she steers me to her bedroom.

From the doorway, I notice how much lower the ceiling seems after the dramatic height of the living areas. Even so, two door-height shutters lie open, framing a view to the garden. The room is surprisingly bland with its pale brown walls and linens in white and cream. It's tidy, too, and a little more impersonal than I would have expected from this woman. Then my eyes follow an exposed beam up to a set of bleached antlers hung with beads and feathers. The wall opposite the bed that looked like paneling is a massive closet, an incredible amount of storage for two people.

I turn around and realize I've found Emily in an area exploding with art. Colorful throws spill out of blanket boxes. A traditional coat dominates the wall, little more than a covering over the shoulders and arms. It is almost entirely one long fringe.

Then there's a large wreath made from a pale colored vine, decorated in trinkets and richly dyed feathers; the unmistakable web across its center revealing it to be a dream catcher. When I take a closer look and touch the vine, she offers, "Wisteria." Another more simple hoop displays a new kind of web, woven into the shape of a tree, and dotted with fruit in the form of different colored beads. It's quite beautiful in its simplicity.

A tiny crib awaits the arrival of its new resident, currently housing a haphazard collection of linens and stuffed toys. The picture of a sleeping baby on a pack of newborn diapers makes me feel slightly emotional.

Above the crib is a large framed photo. It's old, or made to look old, processed in sepia and hazy around the edges. The subject is elderly, clutching a bison hide together at his neck. His long hair is pulled back from his high forehead, caught by something that holds long stand-up feathers and short antlers that stick out from the back of his head. He's weather-beaten and cold, a hint of breath visible as it escapes his mouth. It is a magnificent portrait of proud warrior, somewhat past his peak.

"My great grandfather," she explains proudly.

"It's wonderful," I whisper, hardly able to take my eyes from the image. "He has to be in your photo, Emily."

Getting up from the bed, she opens a closet door and pulls out a drawer. "And so does this."

I'm staggered by the intricate work in the necklace she produces, made from hundreds of elk teeth. She tells me her grandmother made it as a wedding gift.

"Should I change?" she asks, browsing through dozens of outfits hanging in front of her and sighing.

"Why don't you just hold it as something important to you?"

"Oh, okay." She looks relieved and I take a dozen shots from varying angles with her admiring the necklace, incorporating as much of her wall of art as I can. Then she holds the necklace against her belly, looking down and smiling. After taking only one photo, I lower the camera, unable to tear my eyes away when I witness the necklace moving.

"Give me your hand." She moves my palm until she finds the right spot and my mouth drops open, experiencing the intensity of the kicks. "I think the baby just woke up." I could spend all afternoon marveling at this miracle of strength inside her, but it's only fleeting. After we wait for a while, she shrugs and tells me this happens to Sam all the time.

I show her how to scroll through the images, and I'm watching her expression to see if she's happy when I hear the sound of an acoustic guitar. At first, I think I'm imagining they're playing a song I know well.

"You should come and see this," she says, taking my hand and smiling.

 _It can't be...surely it can't be..._

I follow her, singing the lyrics in my head, certain I'm not mistaken, when I hear a voice say, "Come on Cullen."

After a chuckle, the deep velvety voice I know starts to sing…

 _The strangers in this town  
They raise you up just to cut you down  
Oh Angela it's a long time comin'_

As I stand in the doorway and sing along silently, Emily is smiling at the performance in front of us. Edward and Sam are both playing now but it's Edward's voice I hear. It's Edward I'm fixated on, and if there was ever any doubt I was falling in love him, it's now gone. We never spoke of the Lumineers, so I never told him I'm seeing them with the namesake of this song very soon.

I have a feeling that Angela was right when she said he's going to surprise me, and now I'm aware that I need to share a whole lot more of myself than the heavy details in my past. There could be many ways we already connect.

The song ends with our applause and Emily says, "That reminds me." She goes to a desk and hands Edward the familiar CD I've played a hundred times. "This might be the last time you two play without having to worry about waking a baby."

"I'll gladly give up that privilege," Edward responds with smirk. "...but I think you're forgettin' somethin'."

"What's that?" she asks, placing her hands on her non-existent hips.

"The baby might like it. He or she has been listenin' to us practice for a while now."

She shakes her head and snorts. "Of course. I must have mistaken kicking for a whole lot of dancing." She lightly smacks the back of his head and he chuckles, leaning the guitar against the wall. As I see the depth of their friendship, like brother and sister, I feel something new and profound come over me.

I love him. I want him to be mine more than anything. I'm going to struggle when I have to leave in a few days and try to live without him.

He looks down at our hands when I lace my fingers through his. I can't see his face when he raises my hand to his lips, but the smile is there in the crinkles around his gentle green eyes.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_

 _ **I won't be posting next Sunday as I have both kids in town and lots to do. See you in two weeks.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thanks to Ipsita and Nic for pre-reading, and to VampyreGirl86 for her beta skills. SarcasticBimbo was not with us again this week, so all mistakes are my own.**_

 _ **I had plans to reply to your reviews last night, then I couldn't stop watching the royal wedding. Please forgive me for falling under it's spell. Harry and Meghan are obviously in love, and I wish them all the best in the future.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 15**_

"Have a great birthday tomorrow," Emily gushes, pulling me into a hug.

"I will, and thank you for lunch." I was genuinely sorry to leave, but once Edward made our hotel bookings, he was eager to get going.

"Thank you so much for the photos, Bella."

"Oh, it's a pleasure. I hope it's an easy labor for you. Please take care of yourself."

"We going?" Edward asks, grasping Sam's shoulder. "Let me know when you want to start painting."

Edward opens his arms to Emily, but she hangs back and stares at his chest. "Don't you ever come around here wearing that t-shirt in front of my child."

He smirks and looks down at the offending article of clothing. "Hey, you don't have a cat. My mother bought this for me."

"You tell her from me she should be ashamed of herself."

Then she laughs and hugs him. Edward chuckles as we walk to the car. Sam wraps his arms around Emily's shoulders, kissing her hair. I feel envy, a longing for the kind of partnership they have, the way they complete each other. Angela and Ben will be just like them once they marry.

"Call me," Edward reminds Sam as the Mustang crackles and bursts into life, and I grin when Emily blows him a kiss. Looking over at Edward, I wonder if each of us _does_ have a soulmate, and how we recognize our destiny. I know I felt something strange and wonderful today I cannot explain. Having never felt anything like it before, I don't really know if it's lust or falling in love or truly loving someone, but I hope it can last when we're apart.

I _do_ want a relationship with Edward, and talking with Emily has opened my eyes. Although Edward said he's flexible about where he lives, he's developing a business here with Sam. His award shows he's finding his niche, and I can see it's his passion, so he's more tied to this area than I am to Seattle.

Angela will have me weighing the pros and cons of moving here, and she'll tell me not to make a hasty decision.

As we pull into his driveway, the first thing we'd have to discuss is right in front of me. We shouldn't have to live in this two-bedroom house when I have a spare fifty grand in the bank and a houseful of furniture. We both need working space of our own, and I would want a spare room so I could invite people to visit from home.

Home. I don't even know where that is anymore, and I still have to tell Edward why I can never go back to Forks.

"Why are you quiet?" he asks when he cuts the engine. "I thought you liked them."

"You mean Sam and Emily? Of course I like them. I was just...daydreaming about our trip to Yellowstone."

"Well, I know they liked you."

His smile is enough to eliminate every negative thought in my head, and he leans over, softly kissing me. I kiss him back, breathing in his scent and loving his tongue against mine. The feel of his sexy beard has my mind filling with erotic images again.

 _Jesus, it doesn't take much for me to want more._

Then he stops and kisses my cheek. "Come on beautiful. Let's get this show on the road."

Taken aback, I watch as he opens his door and jogs around to mine.

"You're a damn tease, Cullen."

He leans down and kisses me again. "Well, sometimes I just can't resist your lips, lady."

I pout. "And sometimes you pull back too fast."

With his hands on the roof of the car, he looks me square in the eyes. "It's gonna get monotonous if every kiss has to lead somewhere, don't you think?"

"I…I guess I'm not used to the affection."

"Well, get used to it. I'm gonna be an affectionate guy when it comes to you."

Getting out of the car, I'm slightly wobbly, knowing this is what I wanted—a man who can show affection and want nothing in return.

* * *

It's the first time in years I've been looking forward to doing something special on my birthday. Seeing Yellowstone with Edward Cullen is going to be the most special of special.

I'm so excited, I can't settle when we're out on the highway in a '73 Mustang. One minute I'm singing along with the radio, feeling the wind in my hair, and the next I'm researching where we're going on my phone.

"Yellowstone is a bowl that sits at eight thousand feet—part of a five hundred mile scar ripped through the Rockies during multiple volcanic eruptions. It's a super volcano that could blow again at any time."

"Do you want to turn around?" he asks, jokingly.

I roll my eyes at him. "Did you know the Rocky Mountains stretch all the way from British Columbia to New Mexico?"

"Well, I did know it's a bigass mountain range."

"Look, the horizon is changing." The sun hanging low in the sky is highlighting the fact that there's something looming beyond the farms and gently rolling hills.

"It's pretty country round here," he remarks, shifting his hips to get comfortable. "The Beartooth Mountains are comin' up soon."

"It _is_ really pretty."

We've been driving for an hour to a town with a population of only two thousand—even smaller than Forks. Red Lodge proclaims itself as the "Gateway to Yellowstone" although it takes another two hours to reach the northeast entrance to the park. Edward assures me the scenery along the Beartooth Highway is spectacular.

Our hotel tonight is "The Pollard," situated on the very grand sounding Broadway Avenue. When Edward described it as "historic," I inwardly groaned, imagining windy corridors and musty bathrooms, but he said he's stayed there many times while working in the area. We'll be back on Wednesday after one night at a place called "Snow Lodge," right in the park.

"Where is Bear Creek?" I ask, giggling at the screen on my phone.

"About ten miles east of Red Lodge. Why?"

"Damn, we missed the pig races. They don't run past Labor Day."

"I heard they're very popular," he deadpans and I burst out laughing. When he looks over, grinning, I ask him why and he says, "Nothin'. I like to hear you laugh. You're full of life again."

Smiling, I know I haven't felt this free and happy in a long while. Even all the places with "bear" in their names don't seem to trouble me. "I really am looking forward to this trip."

He squeezes my hand. "You're gonna love it."

As we come into Red Lodge, there's a mountain ahead and a beer brewery on the right. Cement loaders and new constructions spread out behind auto care centers and truck sales lining the highway. While the U-haul rental place and old motel look like many other small towns in America, we're soon passing a brand new gas station and Comfort Inn.

Then I see Ray Judd Petroleum—one of those tiny old-time gas stations on a corner where Ray probably comes out to pump the gas. Right now, it's closed.

Surprisingly, Red Lodge has its own courthouse, historical society, library, museum, even a Harley Davidson dealer, and a good number of restaurants, bars, beauty salons, clothing and bookstores. This is a much bigger main street than Forks, and we're only halfway along when I notice the sign with a moose and the words, "The Pollard Hotel." It's a large three-story establishment painted terracotta with dark green awnings. It actually doesn't look half bad for a hotel in a small rural town.

Inside, the hotel is beautifully preserved with honey-colored timber paneling, pressed ceilings and striped wallpaper. The staircase is a masterpiece of spindles. A girl on the desk greets Edward by name, and I feel the way she fawns over him all the way to my fingernails.

"Just one night this time," she notes, side-eyeing my suitcase and then me. "Can we help you with that luggage?" Edward tells her we're fine while I resist the urge to inform her I haven't had a chance to unpack since we came back from Mexico. The truth is I spent so much time on the whale shark photos that I just yanked the presents out and replaced them with my best underwear, a jacket, and some cooler climate layers. Most of our clothes were freshly laundered before we left Tulum.

When Edward hands me the room key and takes our bags to the elevator, I smile at her sweetly, not really sure why I'm letting her get under my skin.

Our room is lovely, with an alcove big enough for a couch and a coffee stand. The balcony looks out over a tall gallery inside the hotel.

"You did well," I comment. "I didn't think it would be this nice."

"You didn't seem that impressed downstairs."

I can hardly look at him, embarrassed he noticed. "That woman was a little too familiar with you."

He scoops me up in his arms and sits on the bed. "I think they're supposed to recognize repeat customers, don't you?"

"I obviously don't handle jealousy very well."

"Hey," he says, looking into my eyes. "I'm never gonna to give you a reason to be jealous."

"Okay." I sigh and bury my face in his neck.

"Let's go out for a drink and somethin' to eat," he offers.

"Aren't you exhausted? You haven't slept today."

"Actually, I don't feel sick at all." He gives me a quick kiss and stands us up. "Let's get outta here."

My eyes bulge when I watch him zip up a black leather jacket that hugs his hips, accentuating his shoulders and arms. He looks so hot, I drop the navy sweater I was going to wear and find my own jacket. At least now we will look like a couple.

He kisses me in the elevator, and as we pass by the same woman at the reception counter, he squeezes my ass.

As soon as we're out the front door, I ask, "Did you do that for her benefit?"

"Maybe." He winks, then throws an arm across my shoulders. I snuggle into his side, loving that he did that for me.

We walk toward the old-fashioned movie theater and then enter the Snow Creek Saloon next door. A sign over the front door welcomes all bikers. The walls inside are covered with license plates and a disgusting boar's head peers down over the bar. There are other skulls attached to antlers around and hides used to decorate the place—one is a grey bear with its head intact.

"Do you hunt?" I ask, worried how I'll take it if he says yes.

"No...you?" He asks as if he's equally interested in my answer.

I shake my head. "I just wondered because of the—you know, all the dead animals in here."

"This is America, Bella," he states with a slight frown on his face. "And I _would_ hunt if it was the only way to provide food, but someone would have to show me how to shoot a gun first." He bumps me with his hip, making me laugh.

The bartender, Randall, instantly recognizes Edward and smiles at me. Edward introduces us and orders two beers, and I comment on the number of bars I've seen in town. Randall tells me there were twenty saloons here in the good ol' days.

"Really?" I look between him and Edward, thinking back to the one place in Forks that would have qualified as a bar.

"This was a big coal town until the mines closed during the Great Depression. What kept Red Lodge goin' was quality bootleg."

"Did the mines reopen?" I'm genuinely interested to hear the town's history from a local.

"They did, but in 1943 an explosion killed seventy-four miners, and all mining ceased soon after."

"Seventy-four." Oh boy. I can imagine the impact of such a disaster, and I let it sink in, recalling Dad telling me to respect people who go to work every day and face danger. "Where I come from, it was logging. My grandfather died in an accident felling a massive tree, and his brother became the union man after that."

"Where was this?" he asks.

"Washington State, close to the Canadian border."

Randall nods, taking in what I said reverently. "These days we still service the farmers and ranchers, but we survive on tourism. Yellowstone draws millions of visitors over the summer and the skiers keep us employed through winter."

"You can ski here?" I inquire.

"Red Lodge Mountain is only fifteen minutes away."

A man wearing a dusty black Stetson slams his glass on the bar and asks for another. Randall tends to him, asking how his day was.

"Do you ski?" Edward asks.

"Yeah, I love to ski."

"So do I," he says, smiling. "Shall we get a table?"

I ask about the raised area at the back of the bar, and Edward explains that the band plays up there. He says they don't usually start until later. When I inquire if they're any good, he shrugs, saying they don't seem to have a regular band.

"How long have you played guitar?" I ask.

"Just a few months, actually. Sam is teaching me."

"You know that song you were playing today is a favorite of mine. I'm going to see the Lumineers in Los Angeles in a few weeks." He cocks his head to the side, expecting me to go on. "My roommate is getting married to Ben next month, and it's her idea for our girl's night out. Guess what her name is?" Shaking his head, he waits. "Angela."

He runs his fingers through his hair. "I saw the Lumineers in April. Have a guess where?" When I shrug he answers, "Seattle."

"Oh! I wanted to go to that concert but I had to work."

"I took Tanya." He snorts. "She hated it."

"Seattle or the band?"

He groans and presses his fingers to his eyes, as if the memory is too exhausting to share. "I knew we had no future after that weekend. It just took me a while to end it."

I rub his back and look into his eyes. "I know what that's like."

"I honestly thought I'd never meet anyone who felt right." Then he smiles and traces patterns on the back of my hand. "But I knew I had to take the chance to go to Mexico, and now here you are."

His words bring a pang of sadness I wasn't expecting. "Edward, I don't know how this is going to work. I have to go back in a few days."

He squeezes my hand and stands up. "I'm getting us another drink."

I watch him at the bar, wishing I could stay longer, but I have to be ready to go away again on Monday, and there's nothing I can juggle for ages. Holding two beers, he navigates his way gracefully through the crowd. He has such great posture and he's—just delicious. When he smiles, I know I need something to look forward to, a promise of seeing again.

"How would you like to be my date at the wedding?"

"When?" he asks.

"October 21st. It's in Seattle."

He takes out his phone and checks his calendar, looking up and nodding. "Yeah, I sure would." Suddenly, I feel like a schoolgirl whose crush just accepted her invitation to prom. "But I wanna see you before _then_."

"I can't come to you, Edward. I have work commitments, a house to clear out, and the trip to L.A. One of my best friends is showing his first collection at Fashion Week, and then there's the wedding."

"Why can't your ex look after the house? How come it's your responsibility?"

The question makes me snort. "Jake hasn't lived in Seattle for ages, and he took what he wanted when he left. I'm not even sure I'll see him again. I haven't been back to Forks since the trial."

He searches my face. "Have you had a falling out with your parents, because of the divorce?"

"No. They were disappointed at first, but we're good. They come down to Seattle and sometimes we meet halfway."

Studying me, he takes a long pull of his beer. "Bella, my mind is going in a thousand directions. It's time for the rest of the story."

Remembering what I've already told him, I ask, "Where do you want me to start?"

"Where you left off. You said you were threatened."

I look around the bar, and where we're situated is private, so I don't have a solid reason to delay. I finish my beer and take a fortifying breath.

 _It's time to get this over with. If Edward reacts in a certain way, I know we weren't meant to have a relationship. Angela said this was a deal breaker, and I must find out before I go back to Seattle._

"I'm gonna need another drink, first." Edward goes for his wallet but I hold onto his arm. "No, I'm getting this round. Coors still okay?" My expression must warn him not to argue, because he nods and leans back in his chair, letting me pick up his empty bottle of beer.

When I see the familiar bottle of tequila, I order two beers and a shot, throwing it down before leaving the bar. Sitting down at our table, the burn in my throat comforts me enough to start before I lose my nerve.

"Okay, so the whole town seemed to find out the moment the police made the arrest. My father had taken charge of the case and used our evidence, including the photos I'd taken and a statement from a bear expert, to convince the judge to grant him a warrant. There was also the strange behavior of the wife of the victim, who had started proceedings to sue the national park, even before the funeral took place. This was the woman who reported them missing, who was supposed to be overcome with grief.

"Everywhere I went, people stopped talking and stared at me. Some of them were bold enough to leer and ask if we'd found the killer bear yet. Friends from school sent messages, asking what I knew when it was clearly a bear attack. Peter's wife had a hair salon in town, suddenly empty of customers.

"Two men followed Peter and I into the park, wanting an explanation for the arrest of an innocent man, and they quickly offered us the choice of a transfer to Rainier National Park or a leave of absence. Peter warned me it wasn't safe for us in this town.

"I wasn't that worried because this kind of thing happened all the time. As the daughter of the police chief, people would bring up cases Dad was investigating and ask what I knew. I always replied that he wasn't allowed to talk about it at home, and the interest usually died down as fast as it blew up.

"Then Mom and I came out of a store one day to find the words 'bear lover' painted in big black letters down the side of my truck. It was broad daylight, but not a single person had seen anything." Edward runs his thumb across his bottom lip. "After someone threw bricks through the windows of Peter's house, he packed up his family and took the transfer to Rainier."

"I don't blame him," Edward comments. "You should have gone with them."

Shrugging, I'm slightly discouraged he's leapt to that conclusion like others before him. I've considered it so many times, wondering how my life would be now if I _had_ left then.

"Maybe, but Peter didn't want to come back to testify, and they weren't going to subpoena him. He even called to say he could get me a job at Rainier, that I should keep away from the trial, but it just made me more determined to go through with it.

"A week before the trial started, a group of men cornered me when I was on my own, demanding to know what we witnessed that day. They shoved me back and forth between them, and if Jake hadn't appeared, I honestly don't know what would have happened. He drove me to the res and that's where I stayed. It scared the life out of me."

"Wasn't your father concerned about you?" Edward questions, creasing his bottom lip between his fingers.

"No, Dad knew them all well and they did have two wolves as their guard dogs."

He snorts. "That's right."

"The prosecution team said I didn't have to testify in open court, that they could submit the evidence on my behalf. The defense were apparently planning to discredit me as too young and inexperienced."

"How old were you?" Edward asks.

"Um, I had just turned twenty-two."

"Jesus, Bella," he responds, shaking his head slowly, and I prepare to defend my decision by taking a big lungful of air.

"There were no witnesses, Edward, no evidence tying the man directly to the murder. He was going to get away with it."

"But you were just a girl. It should not have been on your shoulders."

"That lying bastard was dumb enough to say he was there when the bear attacked his friend."

"Why was that important?"

I hold up my hand and claw at the air. "A bear naturally extends its paw so the slashes are a certain distance apart, but the marks on the victim matched a closed paw, one without the use of its tendons. There was also no human tissue found on bear's other paw, and bears don't attack with one arm tied behind their back.

"His statement said that he shot at the bear, but there was no casing found near the body. They did find tiny sprays of its blood around the victim, but everyone agreed the wound we saw would have killed the animal instantly. The amount of blood around its body I photographed in the forest corroborated that."

"So didn't they have him at that point?"

I shake my head and look at the ceiling, remembering the frustration. "Only enough to go to trial. They had no evidence to prove it was him, and Dad always said a conviction wasn't possible with reasonable doubt.

"We found out the defense were going to plant the idea during my cross examination that we'd killed the bear ourselves, and suddenly, they were cautioning me against testifying."

"But you went ahead anyway."

"Yes. Three bears were slaughtered in the park. I'd lost my partner, hadn't worked in eight weeks, and I was hiding in Jake's house, terrified of what might happen if I set foot in town."

Edward moves my hair behind my ear. "You had to help convict him, didn't you?"

Nodding, I smile now, feeling the empathy I hoped he would show. "One day I looked at a wolf sitting at my feet, realizing how attached I had become to them, and I had this feeling it was my job to stand up for the innocent bear. As the only non-cop testifying who'd been at the scene of a crime, I had a chance to make it personal and give the jury a sense of what it felt like.

"We practiced my answers until the prosecution team were satisfied. They wanted me to come across as someone just doing my job, calmly presenting my evidence, but I had a few things of my own to add. If the defense were going to introduce theories to sway the jury, then I'd have my say. Only the judge could decide what to strike from the record, but either way, they would hear me in court.

"The day I finally entered the courthouse, somebody spat on me. Dad and Jake escorted me in and never left my side, but when they called my name, I nearly shit my pants.

"We went through the facts of our search for the two missing men, and when the attorney asked me the question, 'What did you do when you encountered the body?' I answered, 'I threw up all over my shoes,' and there was enough chatter for the judge to call for quiet. The attorney rolled his eyes at me, but I saw the smirk on his face.

"When he continued, I answered as we'd rehearsed until we reached the part where we found the bear. As I recited the facts of how far we'd hiked from the body, he showed me the photos I'd taken before handing them to the jury, and I lost it. Three months of pent up emotion poured down my cheeks as I described how gut-wrenching it was seeing the baby trying to suckle from its dead mother."

"What baby?" Edward asks.

"When we were searching for the men, we found a group of people who remembered seeing two men fishing who fit the description, and they showed us where they were camped. It was in good order, minus their fishing gear, and when we couldn't find them, we stayed overnight to await their return.

"The following morning, there was a commotion when a small black bear cub came into the camp looking for food. We shooed it away, knowing Mom wasn't far, but it kept returning and howling, as if it was lost. My heart went out to that baby, knowing it wouldn't survive long without its mother's protection, but we had been instructed to stay away and leave them alone.

"We climbed to the top of a nearby ridge to radio in that we still hadn't found the men, and came across the body. The police dispatched a team by helicopter, who spent the day investigating and taking the victim away, while we cleared the area of people and searched for the killer bear.

"Eventually, we found her by following the cub we'd seen that morning. As I said, she had a gunshot wound to her head and her forearm was removed. When we couldn't find the bullet or the arm, we just documented what we could.

"I was sobbing so hard that the attorney had to stop the court proceedings so I could pull myself together, and I saw several members of the jury visibly affected. I think it helped convict him and the defense attorney didn't lay into me the way we anticipated. He did propose that we'd killed the bear ourselves to protect the park's visitors, but I answered that the only thing I'd ever shot in my life was a tranquilizer. The prosecution neutralized him, showing the gunshot residue tests we'd taken at the station. My dad didn't make police chief by overlooking details that would cost him a conviction. They let me go after that."

"Do you know what happened to the bear cub? Did it survive?"

I squeeze his hand because he's the only person, apart from Angela, who cared enough to ask, and I love him for showing compassion.

"I don't know, Edward. We tagged the cub at the time but there's no record of it's capture since, so it may have died. Sometimes they are adopted by another female, but it doesn't happen very often."

"I'm sorry," he says, genuinely meaning it and we both take a drink of our beer. "So you won the case. Weren't you celebrating?"

"I wish." This part is still hard and I have to take a deep breath to avoid the sting of tears in my eyes. "Unfortunately, this is not where the story ends. The day he was convicted was the day I moved back home, naively thinking I could go back to my old life. Jake had the car resprayed and Dad was with me. We pulled into the driveway and Mom burst out the front door, incoherently sobbing and screaming something about Leo, our dog. Someone had shot him in the head and cut off his paw. She'd been searching everywhere but couldn't find it."

Edward covers his mouth with his hand as I feel my eyes filling up.

"I don't think I can ever forget that day. All I could say was, 'This is my fault,' over and over again, but no amount of apologizing was going to bring Leo back."

"Why was it your fault? Your father was the one who charged him."

"That's his job, Edward, and nothing like this had ever happened before. No, I knew it was my testimony that brought the evil to our home, and the only way to protect my family was for me to go."

"What kind of person shoots an innocent dog?"

"The same kind of person who shoots a bear. I was such a mess when I left Forks that Dad asked Jake to go with me."

Sighing, he asks, "Where did you go?"

"I got a transfer to Rainier, and Jake stayed until I found somewhere to live. Then Mom came for a whole week, and we talked it all through. She understood my decision to leave, but she wanted me to see this as a temporary move. The troublemakers had all left town and things were already returning to normal.

"Mom had been through it all before, and I'd seen what she described many times, heard people say how they missed the excitement of a trial, but I was so wrapped up in this one crime that the loose ends disturbed me. The man behind bars never confessed, so they might have convicted him of murder, but we'd never know if he killed the bear. The men who roughed me up were strangers, and it could have been anyone who killed Leo. I just couldn't go back to a place where I'd always fear something bad would happen to me or the people I love.

"Mom went home, urging me to at least come back for the holidays, but I've only managed to meet them in Sequim so far, an hour and a half away."

Edward rubs his jaw with his thumb. "So you liked Rainier?"

"Yeah, but I had no drive to finish my studies, and I was going nowhere without finishing my degree. The reason I stayed was the access to the wilderness, catching something rare with my camera when I got lucky. I made a few bucks on the side selling the photos I took.

"Jake would visit every so often and we'd camp overnight. In that regard, we were well suited because we're both comfortable in the outdoors. During those weekends I got some great shots."

"Were you lovers at this stage?" he asks.

"No, Jake and I were never really lovers."

Edward sits back, looking slightly perplexed. "Keep going."

"When I heard about the competition, I saw a new life with a degree in photography behind me. By the time the deadline came around, I had three possible entries: the one you saw of the black bear cub with Mount Rainier in the background, another frozen wilderness lit by the sun with a dark gray sky full of lightning, and the third was the shot I'd taken of the three generations of Black men with their wolf. I had to wait a week for Jake to get permission for me to enter it.

"I decided to submit all three and heard nothing, assuming they weren't good enough, then I got the call to say the Native American photo had won. I couldn't believe it."

Edward is now smiling, like he's living this with me. Oh, he's so gorgeous, I could jump into his lap.

"A few things fell into place at the same time. Rainier agreed to let me work weekends and college vacations. Angela relocated to Seattle after college and a long overseas vacation, so I moved in with her when my course started. I met Ben Cheney there, this quiet guy doing a lighting course, and the very flamboyant Tyler Crowley, a major in fashion design. The four of us became like family, doing everything together.

"Jake was coming down more often on weekends and we fell into the easy friendship we'd always had. Occasionally, we'd go out with Angela and Ben, but Tyler was usually busy when Jake was in town.

"When Jake announced he'd applied to the police academy in Seattle, I knew my father was behind it. It took a whole year of admissions and training before he started as a probationary officer at the West Precinct.

"James Hunter approached me as I was finishing college, offering me a job with their agency, and I had more work than I could cope with until he started getting creepy. He would buy drinks on Friday night and ask me to stay when everyone else was leaving. When he tried to kiss me, I told him I had a boyfriend. I should never have mentioned it to Jake, because he drove to Seattle, warning James to keep his hands off me.

"Suddenly, the work dried up with The Hunter Agency. Then it became so hard to get any kind of work that I was doing more jobs for the national park magazines than I was working in the city. But you know what? I was enjoying it so much more."

"So, I'm not hearin' a love story. When did things change? Did you gravitate to each other because you had history with Jake?"

"He asked me to marry him at a time when I was sick of men in general. You don't know what it's like for a single woman, being the target of men's sexual advances all the time."

A smirk comes over his face. "Big bad Edwards tryin' to get you in bed."

I smack his arm gently. " _Almost_ as bad as you."

"So what did he do to sweep you off your feet?"

"Um…" I have to think about it before I snort. "Persistence I suppose. He asked me many times before I gave in, and there were flowers and candy and dinners and weekends away but…what are you doing?" I ask, watching Edward tap something into his phone.

"Just takin' notes in case I need 'em. Although, when I ask, you won't hesitate to say yes."

"God, you're so…" I throw a coaster at him, which he deflects, and I giggle.

"Lovable," he says, grinning.

I wonder how he came up with the exact word I was thinking. "Yes you are, mister, you are."

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Love to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, and SarcasticBimbo. Happy Birthday to** **VampyreGirl86!**_ _ **Sorry I was so late with the chapter this week, and I really appreciate you giving me your precious time.**_

 _ **Reviews - I should have given you a warning on the last chapter. It's been a long time since I wrote it and I was kinda desensitised to its content. Please accept my apologies.**_

 _ **Favorite review this week was from CSG. "Yes, you're lovable. But don't take notes from Jake! Lol" I laughed out loud when I read it.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 16**_

It's a tremendous feeling getting something off your chest, especially when you were dreading the outcome. Edward's empathy and compassion have made me feel closer to him than ever before.

His comment about _when_ he proposes marriage hasn't done him any harm, either. I know it was only said in humor, but a girl can't help feeling swoony after a statement like that.

I'm loving his arms around me as we listen to the band. We were going to leave once they started, but the songs they've played have been mellow and bluesy—perfect for staying close and swaying together.

I never did this with Jake, mostly because he didn't like this kind of music, but the height difference didn't work on the dance floor. It didn't quite work in other places, either. While Edward is certainly not short at six foot two, I feel like a woman rather than a child standing next to him. Currently, he's paying attention to my earlobe while his whiskers send chills down my spine.

"Oh God, this song. Dance with me, Bella," he purrs in my ear. I was so lost in the sensation of _him_ , I hardly noticed the song change. As he slides his arm around my waist, the hauntingly soulful sound of electric guitar and a gravelly voice fills my ears, and I recognize the song.

When I ask if it's Keith Urban, he smiles. I heard it on the radio a few weeks back, but I'm only now realizing what a sexy love song it is. He slowly twirls me out and back in, then holds me against him while he sings to me, and he's so captivating I can't take my eyes off him. As we spin around, it feels like I'm in a dream.

Applause marks the end of the song, but there's a sizzle lingering between us, locking us together. Furtively, I glance at a couple nearby as they beam at each other and kiss. Normally, I would turn away from an amorous display in public, but there is nothing sleazy about them showing their appreciation for the song and their love for each other. When Edward cups my cheek, I'm not a bit embarrassed, wholeheartedly responding to his kiss.

"You ready to leave?" he asks, with eyes sending a compelling message.

"Yes." I'm ready all right. The way I feel right now, we could skip Yellowstone and stay in bed until I have to go to the airport.

We put on our jackets and exit the bar as three Harleys pull in. People are out here smoking, and a group of girls laugh and stumble as they go inside. We're departing just as the place is heating up, but there's only one thing I want to do right now—make love to my man.

Arm in arm, we stop briefly to check out what's playing at the movie theater, and Edward pulls me to his side and takes a selfie. Back at the hotel, he casually plays with my hair in the elevator, then holds my hand until we reach our door.

"We're gonna leave early in the morning," he states, swiping the card in the door. "We should get ready before we go to bed."

"Sure." I appreciate him being sensible, but I'm disappointed he's more focused on our plans for tomorrow than what we're going to do once we get into bed. My thoughts are full of his lips and naked body, but I'm not comfortable asking for sex.

Sorting through my bag, I find fresh clothes for the morning and search for the firestone necklace I planned to wear since he bought it for my birthday.

"What are you holdin'?" he asks, dropping his bag on the floor.

Looking at my hands, I answer, "This?" I hold up the dress to show him he's seen it before. "It's what I bought in Tulum to wear over my bikini."

With wide eyes and a mouth turning up in a smile, he asks, "You gonna wear that to bed?" and I frown, not sure what he means.

"You don't like me naked anymore?"

He closes the gap between us and runs the material through his fingers. "Bella, I have a thing for you in this dress."

"A thing?"

Sliding his hands over my hips, he answers, "You don't know how hard it was resistin' you when you wore it."

I touch his face, wanting to encourage this promising dynamic. "You behaved like a gentleman and I appreciate it."

He groans and leans into my palm. "Bella, in my head, you're weren't wearin' anything else." God, the open sexuality is exciting. His eyes drop to my chest and he adds, "And I don't feel like behavin' myself right now, lady."

"Then I'll be right back," I respond, taking the dress to the bathroom, more than happy to oblige. Once I tie my hair up, I look in the mirror and imagine what was going through his head in Tulum. I love that he was having the same kind of dirty thoughts that were constantly invading my mind.

He's naked when I come out, sitting on the bed with every light turned off except the bedside lamps. There's a condom sitting on the nightstand.

 _Oh, boy._

"Wow," he says, looking me up and down. I'm thinking the exact same thing as I ogle him. "Come here," he commands.

The way he stares makes me feel playful. "No pajamas, mister?"

"Well, I thought I'd wear you to bed, gorgeous." Slipping his hands under the dress, he pulls me onto his erection and I whimper as I slide along a little. Then he examines me carefully, caressing my breasts through the silky fabric. Looking up with piercing green eyes, he shakes his head slightly. "I might try, but I cannot resist you."

"You try?"

"I didn't want this trip to be all about sex. We're supposed to be getting to know…"

"Shhhh." I touch my finger to his lips. "Edward, I can't resist you, either."

His eyes crinkle up in a smile and he kisses me, groaning when I move on him. I've fallen in love with this position ever since he planted the idea of using his body for pleasure. He works his way to my neck while he squeezes my breasts, lifting his hips as I grind down.

"Hold onto my arms," he growls and I lower my hands to his biceps, feeling muscles carved from thousands of push ups. Sliding a spaghetti strap over my shoulder, he eases the fabric down just enough to expose a breast and then looks at me, hungry. He touches so softly, tracing my nipple with his finger and then his tongue while his beard drives me crazy. I close my eyes, and he sucks so hard I cry out, feeling a pleasure in pain I've only ever heard about.

"Did that hurt?" he asks, panicking.

"No," I whisper, half out of my mind, pulling his lips to mine, engulfed by the sensations of heat, muscled skin, tongue, and those glorious bristles I adore. I grind against him until I shudder and cum, panting as I sink into his arms, feeling very lucky I've found such a man.

When I catch my breath, I stare at his beautiful face and play with his hair. He looks a little dreamy for a guy who hasn't had an orgasm yet.

"How does the fantasy end, mister? Is there more?"

Smirking, he replies, "You want more?"

I laugh at him throwing those words back at me. "I want to give _you_ pleasure."

With one eyebrow raised, he looks like he's considering his options. "Okay, get on your knees on the bed, woman."

I stand up with trembling legs, but do as he asks while he goes for the condom. I don't have to wait long before he's behind me with his lips at my ear and his arms surrounding my waist. "You're gonna fuck me this time. I'll kiss you and touch you but you're in control."

"This is your fantasy?"

"Well, it's one of 'em," he says, lifting my dress and squeezing my ass. "I'm all yours."

Reaching around, I position his cock, pushing back all the way so he's buried inside me. He cries out, just as I did before, and I smile, taking control of his pleasure, moving with a rhythm that should bring him undone.

Then he grabs my jaw and kisses me. When he pulls down the dress again, just enough to give him access to a breast, I thank all those hours of yoga because my back is bent in an arch while I fuck him and, from the sounds he's making, he loves it.

Gradually, the sensations build to the point where I naturally speed up, stopping abruptly when I feel him spread my ass cheeks. "What are you doing?" I ask, nervously looking around to face him.

"I'm lookin', that's all. You have a fine ass."

"Don't even think that's going to happen, Edward."

He chuckles. "Settle down. I knew that would bring you around. You're clenchin' me and so far, I've yet to make it through one of your orgasms. Can you please try not to cum just yet?"

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I answer, "Yeah, now I can."

He kisses me just below my ear and purrs, "I've never done it that way, but that doesn't mean I don't find the idea erotic." Jesus, now I find it erotic. I pick up a slower rhythm this time, enjoying the insight into his mind. "We were both naked when I fucked you at the beach in Tulum."

"Were we?" I ask, feeling my pulse quicken.

"Yeah, it was unforgettable."

"After dark?" I close my eyes and imagine us making love in the moonlight.

"Broad daylight, suntan lotion, and sweat." The picture he paints in my head comes to life with his cock inside me, his fingers pulling my nipple, and his beard scratching my neck. I'm right there in our cabana in the heat of the moment—even the air smells of sex.

Edward takes over, thrusting hard now, just as he is in my fantasy. He releases my hair from its knot, growling and cursing as he pounds into me until I explode around him.

"Fuck," he says, pulsing inside me while holding me still. Then we lie on the bed, exhausted, energized, and sated. "I never even touched your clit." Seeing his chest heave, I'm so happy, I start to giggle. "What's funny?" he asks, frowning.

I shake my head. "I'm turning twenty-seven tomorrow and I'm only just discovering the joy of sex."

"Well, I'm gonna take that as a compliment but…you say you were never really lovers. How does that work?"

"Sex was nothing like this, and I was never in love with Jake." _Like I am with you._

He turns on his side to face me. "So why get married?"

With a shrug, I'm aware this is the most improbable part of my past, but Edward needs to understand this to understand me.

"I lost my confidence when I suddenly couldn't get work in the city. James was behind it, but scrounging to pay rent was demoralizing. Edward, I dreaded the idea of going home as a failure, even if I could overcome my fear.

"Jake took care of me, protecting me in a city full of predatory men who had one thing on their minds. He was earning decent money, offering stability, a house of our own. Dad had given his blessing long before Jake even asked me, and between them, they kinda wore me down. As a wedding present, Jake gave me the money to start up my business and Black Bear was born.

"I thought love would come as a natural progression. We'd talked about moving out of the city to have kids. He knew everything about my past and my family trusted him. It should have been easy, but I didn't know Jake saw a wife as someone who cooked his meals, cleaned his house, and laundered his uniforms—someone he had rights over."

Edward looks alarmed. "Did he ever harm you?"

"No, of course not," I answer, and he sighs in relief. "Jake had never been alone in his life. Suddenly, he was spending time on his own as I got more and more work for the national parks, and the arguments started about me going away. When I _was_ home, he'd be angry if I asked him to go out with friends for dinner, so he'd ruin our night and I'd spend the next week not speaking to him. He spent a lot of time with his work buddies, watching a game after going to the gym. Then he drove home to La Push every chance he got, and it became a downward spiral that neither of us could fix.

"I suspected he was seeing someone else, since I'd withdrawn completely from sex. It had always been a chore anyway, so I'd been making excuses for a long time, and I pretended I was asleep if he ever asked me."

"Jesus, he must have hated that."

"There was never any seduction, Edward. He came from a world where men were providers and protectors, and he certainly didn't try to find out what I needed."

"Sex should never be a chore. You could have told him, Bella."

"Well, I probably would have if I'd known what I was missing." A grin spreads across my face and I throw a leg over him, kissing his cheeks and jaw. "Edward, I never really lusted after anyone before you."

He smiles and pushes my hair back, looking over my face. "Then promise you won't hold anything back from now on. If I'm doin' something that makes you unhappy, you tell me."

"I made a decision to open up to you when I came here, and I will."

He touches my cheek tenderly. "I still don't understand why you had such a hard time tellin' me about the murder."

"I haven't told that story to anyone in a long time. You wouldn't believe the opinions people shoved down my neck after I told them what happened."

"Why? It's not like you did anything wrong."

"A ranger from Rainier told me the National Park Service should have looked after me and kept me out of it, saying I didn't have the experience to testify in a murder trial. A girl from college called me an idiot. One guy said I was arrogant, believing an emotional testimony could help convict the perpetrator. Another person asked me how defending one bear was worth having to uproot my life and start again. In some ways, the retelling was worse than going through it the first time."

"You should have told them to fuck off."

"Sometimes I did, but most of the time I went home in tears. No one seemed to understand me, except for Angela, Tyler and Ben."

"I think motivation is very personal and difficult to explain. It's comes from a past of ideas and experiences, like your fundamental morality."

I run my hand over his chest, feeling a connection with my soul. "That's so true, and it explains why everyone had their own opinions. Anyway, these days I just say I won the photographic competition while I was living in Forks."

"But that's not what you told me."

"No, I guess I was trying to explain my behavior and the war going on inside me. I was so confused, Edward, when the attraction I felt kept battling against the idea that you were another mistake."

He tips up my chin. "You and I are no mistake. I believe, now more than ever, that we were meant to find each other." Then he kisses me and I respond, showing him with my body how I feel about him.

* * *

It's dark when I wake up to the sound of the shower. My phone says five thirty, so I turn over, pull the covers up, and go back to sleep.

Sometime after, in the middle of a dream full of Dior Homme and mint, Edward says, "Good morning." I open my eyes to find him dressed and smiling, holding a striped birthday gift bag.

"What's this?" I ask, half asleep, imagining how bad I must look.

"Happy birthday," he says, planting a sweet kiss on my lips.

"Thank you." Touching his jaw, I'm aware he's already bought me the firestone necklace, but I am interested to see what this is.

"Just be careful. It's pointy."

I reach for the gift tag on the handle and see he's written, "Stars for a STAR," and I frown, totally intrigued. The card inside says, "Happy Birthday, love Edward, xxx" and I'm suddenly wide awake, grinning that he's used the word "love."

The treasure inside is wrapped in tissue paper, and I soon guess what it is. They were everywhere in Mexico, hanging from up high or sitting on tables holding tea candles. He's given me a star lantern, made from a bronze metal, just like the color of his hair.

"I didn't have enough time to connect a solar battery, but I will."

"I love these. Can we plug it in?" I ask.

"We sure can." Excitedly, he finds an outlet, sets it down and turns off the other lamp so the room is bathed in stars.

"It's beautiful." I look around in wonder and then find him staring at me. "I love it." Cupping his cheek, I kiss him and hum, saying, "I love you," in my head.

* * *

The drive up the Beartooth Pass is nothing short of stunning, especially with dawn painting the tops of the mountains with fire. With all the hairpin bends, the view changes every minute.

"Over there," I point to a lookout when a particularly breathtaking horizon captures me. "Can we please pull over? I want to get a shot of this."

When driving with Jake, we always had to reach the destination with the least amount of interruption, so I automatically expect the frustrated sigh and prepare for an argument. Edward doesn't answer, pulling in and warning me it's going to be cold.

"Cold? It's freezing!" I laugh at the exhilaration of being up here where the air is so clear, and I've taken a dozen photos before I feel him behind me, turning me slightly. There's a young deer just near us on the other side of a chain link fence, munching on something tasty growing up here between the rocks. Slowly I crouch down, opening the aperture to maximum and pushing the lens through a tiny opening in the fence, praying I don't spook the animal. It raises its head, sniffing danger, and I have to move fast, taking as many shots as I can, hoping one will turn out.

Then I see why it's nervous. A couple of people have approached, and now they're yelling at their friends to come over and share their find. The deer wavers for a second, pulling a treat from the ground before moving away, casting a backward glance which I capture before it retreats to the safety of nearby trees. Satisfied, I stand up and Edward wraps his arms around me. "You warm enough?" he asks, kissing my cheek.

"Yeah," I respond, taking in the grandeur in front of me. "This is phenomenal."

We get back in the car and he wants to see what I've taken. There is one, maybe two shots I could sell where the deer holds its head up with green shoots hanging from its mouth, and a background of snow-dusted mountains.

"Christ, you've got talent, baby. These are incredible." He hands me the camera and starts the engine. "We'll pull in again near the top."

Soon I'm seeing patches of ice clinging to the ground. "How high do we climb?"

"It peaks at eleven thousand feet and then we'll come down into Cooke City and Silvergate. From there, the road follows the Lamar Valley to the entrance to the park."

"It's quite isolated isn't it?"

"Well that's part of its appeal for the animals. This pass will close in a month. "

I place my hand on his thigh. "Thanks for bringing me here, Edward."

He picks it up and kisses it. "Thank you for the last ten days, my beautiful."

We stop twice more before we descend. Through a field of purple and yellow flowers, we follow a path to a majestic view of the peaks above us. Then we stop to see a lake, trapping water up high in the range. The wind has picked up and the sky is filling with clouds, shadowing the snowy peaks to create a most wonderful sight to photograph. It's also literally freezing, with ice everywhere, so I only last a few minutes before I jump back in the car.

The hairpins end and the ride down the other side is smoother and faster. Mountains stretch out to the horizon, and I notice that even down here, snow has recently fallen.

We come into Cooke City, a touristy place with buildings made to resemble the old west. The Miners Saloon - Casino and Emporium, looks like it's been here for a hundred years. I stare at the Yellowstone Trading Post with its statue of a snarling bear on the roof. Wandering past the Beartooth Cafe, Edward steers us toward the bakery and I pull back on his hand when I see the hanging sign.

"What is this?" I glare at him, waiting for him to explain why I'm looking at a picture of a bear paw. "This isn't funny, Edward. The Bearclaw Bakery?"

"They serve a good breakfast." When I snort, he turns to me seriously. "And it wasn't me who suggested we come to Yellowstone."

I stand my ground for a second, and then nod. "This is a little weird, that's all." Looking around, I know I'm the one who's being weird.

"I thought you'd enjoy it, but we can go somewhere else."

"Excuse me." A man opens the door and the delicious aroma of breakfast wafts out of the bakery.

Nodding, I say, "No, let's eat here."

"You're gonna love this," he says, smiling and tugging on my hand.

I'm surprised by how much I _do_ love this busy little bakery. My mouth is watering over the baked goods we buy for the road while we wait for our order. There are two cute toy bears standing in the store, and the larger one, almost as tall as the glass cabinet, wears a fishing hat the same as my dad's. I can't help smiling at them. They really are a sweet reminder that we're entering bear country, the reason many people come here.

The bacon and eggs are simply delicious, and the coffee is as good as anything I've tasted in Seattle.

We drive through Silver Gate with its Grizzly Lodge and local cafe where "Home Cooking" and "Trout Dinners" signs remind me of Forks from my childhood. The town is quaint and tiny, and gone in the blink of an eye.

About twenty minutes later, the traffic slows and grinds to a halt. We wait for a while and then Edward gets out and walks up the road, coming back with the news there's bison ahead. I'm jumping out of my skin, grabbing my camera, having never seen one in the wild before.

"Don't even think about gettin' out, Bella."

"I used to be a ranger, remember? I can take care of myself."

"They're fucking dangerous! Stay in the car!" I startle and stare at him, shocked by the force of his resolve, when he softens and takes hold of my face. "Please—just—I don't want you getting hurt." He kisses me gently, then more possessively, and I understand, imagining him doing something I think is dangerous. I already know I'd react the same way.

With my hands in his hair, I'm melting into a growing desire, when someone in back toots their horn. Edward ignores it, holding me even tighter, and I start to giggle when he shows no sign of stopping. After another blast comes from behind, a car roars around us and Edward stops kissing me reluctantly. "I was enjoying that. What a big deal to gain a hundred yards."

He starts the engine and another car overtakes, cutting us off as we move forward. I brace for Edward to erupt, but he just shakes his head. We're at a standstill again, so it really _was_ a big deal about nothing.

As I play with my firestone pendant, I watch him, wanting to tell him I love him, that being with him brings me all kinds of joy. As if he can read my mind, he looks over and winks, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Here we go," he mutters, craning his neck at something up ahead.

"Holy shit," I whisper, seeing the first of the herd approach, coming slowly up the road. The animal is massive, far bigger than I imagined. "Jesus, they were endangered once."

"Yeah, there used to be thirty million across North America and now Yellowstone is the only place they've lived continuously since prehistoric times." I take in his words, imagining the tragedy of losing such an incredible animal. "I heard there are four thousand here now. It's quite an achievement."

"It is." I can hardly believe I'm watching bison strolling along the highway right next to us. Then a car door opens and a young man gets out, walking around the car with his phone raised to capture the beasts up close. With a rumbling growl, a big male turns to warn him and something in me reacts automatically.

Before I know it, I've opened my door. "Bella," Edward challenges.

"No one is getting killed today," I challenge right back and get out, lapsing into ranger mode, protecting a human from danger. "Return to your vehicle, sir."

"Who the hell are you?" the man, hardly more than a teenager, asks with a sneer, turning his back on the enormous horns that could so easily fling him into the air and end his day in hospital if he's lucky.

"Park Ranger Swan, sir, on my way to report for duty. Return to your vehicle before you get hurt." When he hesitates, I follow with, "Now, mister." He must sense I'm not going to back down because he quickly gets back in his car. Edward stares at me when I sit down next to him. "Did you see it was bigger than him? Those things are giants."

He blinks a couple of times and keeps staring. "Lady, you are full of surprises."

As our herd passes, the cars move on and I thank Edward when he agrees to pull in so soon for the panorama of hundreds of bison sharing their huge valley with an occasional herd of elk. I've walked down from the road, snapping dozens of photos, when my phone pings with a message from Angela. " _Happy Birthday! Are you up yet?_ " I smile and call her back instantly.

"Thanks, Ang!"

" _I didn't want to call in case—well, you know."_

"No, I've been up for hours. I'm currently watching a big herd of Bison on my way to Yellowstone National Park."

" _Did you get the results of the blood tests yet?"_

I feel bad I didn't at least text her, knowing she'd worry. "Yes, and Edward tested positive for Zika virus. The rest of us were clear." I don't want to go into the fact that I've had it before because Ang will ask a whole lot of questions I have no answer for.

" _So, where is he now?"_

"He's okay, actually. He's with me and we're having a great time."

" _I can hear it in your voice, Bella. You're getting to know one another?"_

"I told him the whole story about the bear and Jake and everything."

" _How did he react?"_

"He just listened, really. He didn't say a whole lot."

" _Hmm,"_ she says. _"That's unusual."_

"I know, but I found it really refreshing to finish without a million questions."

" _How do you feel about him now? Do you like him more or less?"_

I look back at Edward, who is talking to a couple while he waits for me. If I admit I've fallen in love, I don't know what she'll say, so I keep it simple.

"More."

" _More?"_

"Definitely more. A lot more."

" _Okay, well just keep your head and have a wonderful time. Do you want me to pick you up from the airport?"_

"You sure?"

" _Text me the flight details and I'll be there."_

"Thank you, Ang. You know I love you."

" _Love you, too."_

I end the call and walk back, having taken another thirty photos.

"I have some news," he announces. "They've had rain and snow where we are staying tonight and more predicted for today. Do you have enough warm clothes?"

Thinking about what I packed in my suitcase, I'm not worried. "I have my rash guard, a few extra layers and a waterproof trench. It's not freezing is it?"

He runs a hand through his hair and shrugs his shoulders. "It's Yellowstone, so it's completely unpredictable. At the same time, there's a wildfire raging that's closed the south entrance."

"Were we going near there?" I ask, and he shakes his head. Wrapping my arms around him, I say, "Then don't worry about me, Mr. Cullen. I'm used to the uncertainty of weather."

With his chin on my head he sighs. "You are quite a girl, Ranger Swan."

We turn south at the entrance to the park and I realize why this place attracts millions of visitors each year. It humbles me when time and time again a bend in the road reveals a photo-worthy view with groups of people enjoying the privilege of just being here. I snap photos for myself to record I was here, but I don't want to linger when it feels like the classic images from lookouts have all been taken before.

"Can we hike?" I ask, seeing other vantage points where I could capture something different.

He screws up his face. "We've still got a way to go, and with the weather..."

"It's okay," I interrupt before he thinks he's letting me down.

"How about we come back next spring with more time?"

For a second, I have doubts we'll ever come back here together, but I force the unwelcome thoughts back. "That sounds great," I answer, smiling and wrapping my arm around his waist as we go back to the car.

At the Lower Falls, the sound of running water thunders more loudly on each level as the path traverses the mountain. When we reach the river, it's full of rapids and only a short distance to a viewing platform right next to the falls. It doesn't take long for the silky dark water to mesmerize me as it turns green and then white as it tumbles over the edge.

"I'm really surprised there's so much water at this time of the year," I comment, seeing more rapids in the canyon below.

"The river has an enormous catchment area. Just wait til you see the size of the lake."

"And that's where we're going tonight?"

"Tomorrow. Our hotel is out near Old Faithful."

"Oh, my God," I exclaim, full of excitement. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"Come on," he beckons with his hand extended. "I want one of those pastries. Are you ready to see an active volcano?"

With one final look, I sigh, contentedly. "You betcha," I respond, smiling and taking his hand.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Thank you so much to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic,**_ ** _VampyreGirl86!, a_** _ **nd SarcasticBimbo. Mwah!**_

 _ **Reviews - Love that you are enjoying their trip to Yellowstone. Some of you have been and some are now planning to go! There's also a common question about when you will hear the "L" word. I'll make sure somebody says it before they have to part, okay?  
**_

 _ **Favorite review this week was from**_ ** _Rita01tx_** _ **. "You know, I blame Disney for the ridiculous chances people take around wild animals LMAO!"**_ _ **  
**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 17**_

After a race to the top, my phone goes off just as we catch sight of the Mustang, so the blood is pumping when I answer. It's Mom. She and Dad break into a full rendition of _Happy Birthday_ , while I keep walking with a smile on my face.

"Thank you."

" _So, you're back in the States? We thought you'd be at the airport, but your number didn't connect with the Mexican code."_

I can never get anything past my father. "That's right. I came back early."

" _You should have told us."_ Mom sounds disappointed. _"We could have done something for your birthday."_

"I'm actually in Yellowstone."

" _Are you working?"_ she asks.

"No, I…I'm with someone I met in Montana a few weeks ago, and he came on the vacation to Mexico."

" _You sound like you're out of breath, darling."_

I don't know why it suddenly feels like I'm justifying who I'm with and what I'm doing. "We've just climbed up from the most spectacular waterfall."

" _Oh. Well it sounds like you're enjoying yourself."_

" _Who is he, Bella?"_ Dad uses the calm voice he reserves for questioning criminals, and I have to look at Edward to find the right answer.

 _He's confident, funny, sensible, intelligent, and wonderful company. I'd be happy to call him my friend, but he's so seductive I can't resist his body. He gives me more pleasure in bed than I ever thought possible, and he's changing my whole attitude toward sex. What I should say is that I don't really know who he is to me yet. It's possible I may never see him again after Friday. It's also possible he could turn out to be the partner I always dreamed I'd meet._

From all that I pluck, "You'd like him. He's a very nice man." Edward takes my hand and kisses it.

After an awkward silence, Dad says, _"You know they're expecting to take possession of the house in three weeks."_ Jake's been in his ear, urging him to remind me.

"I thought the middle of October was four weeks away, actually, so someone needs to inform me if that's changed. I've been busy, Dad, but I will get to it soon."

Edward opens the bag and offers me a pastry, but I shake my head. He takes a bite of a Danish and his face lights up.

" _Do you want my help?"_

"No. It just it took me by surprise when it sold so fast. I still need to look at everything and decide what I want to keep."

" _Are you sure, Bells?"_

"Yes, I'll be fine."

" _Then make a phone call, and hire someone to help you. Do you know where you are going to live?"_

"Not yet." I hear him sigh in frustration. "I'm moving to Angela and Ben's place while I make a decision."

After more silence, he says, _"Okay, we know you can take care of yourself. It's just hard to believe you're twenty-seven already. You have a fantastic birthday."_

" _Bye, darling,"_ Mom calls out.

"Thanks, you two. Please try not to worry about me."

" _You're our little girl, Bells. It's our job to worry about you."_

"Okay, Dad, see you later."

" _Happy birthday,"_ they sing-song together.

I hang up, feeling time running out on me, and when Edward offers the bag of pastries again, I take one, needing something sweet and satisfying.

* * *

The clouds of steam coming out of the ground near the road are the first indication we're nearing our volcano. The smell is the second.

"Is that skunk?" I ask as we're leaving the car.

"Sulphur," he answers, zipping up his tantalizing jacket. "You'll get used to it."

"It's getting colder," I state, shivering slightly as I put on my jacket and look at the darkening sky. "That doesn't look great."

He glances up, then hands me a wool beanie, pulling another other one over his head. "I don't think they got much snow yesterday. Maybe we'll be lucky."

Edward, in a beanie and that sexy jacket, is so gorgeous I can't resist pulling his hips to mine. "You look cute." When I kiss him, he pushes me against the car, holding my face. Our kiss heats up quickly, and soon my fingers are at the nape of his neck, and I'm moaning at the taste of his tongue. I have to break away with a pounding heart when another car pulls in.

"You better cut that out, lady," he warns me, smirking. "Don't get me goin'."

Straightening my jacket, I pull myself together. "That was entirely your fault and you know it."

"Right," he says, grinning and taking my hand.

From the boardwalk, the Porcelain Springs look like cool pools of milk in blues and pinks. Only the steam rising gives away their heat.

"Do you know how hot they are?" I ask, taking photo after photo of the primeval scene.

"The sign says two hundred degrees at the surface."

"Jesus."

"People have gone in for a swim, thinkin' they're thermal baths, and been boiled alive."

"What?" I ask, looking around at the absence of barriers.

"Yeah, one man went in and they never found a trace of him."

He pops an eyebrow and I immediately smell bullshit. "You're making it up."

"No, I'm not. Why would I make somethin' like that up?"

I start taking photos to capture the face he uses to lie to me, and then succumb to a fit of giggles. "Never found a trace of him, huh? You forgot to finish with 'Bwahahaha!'"

"You can look it up yourself if you don't believe me." He walks ahead, giving me the perfect opportunity to get a burst of photos of his—rear. He turns and calls out, "You comin'?" and I swoon a little before taking more shots of the man in front of me.

In the midst of the steam and the marvel of colored volcanic springs, all I really see is him.

As soon as we leave the heat of the springs, the cold comes back with a vengeance, and I pull a sweater from my bag. Edward studies the sky and says we should head to the Lower Geyser Basin. I'm happy to do whatever he wants because I'm grateful for everything I've seen today. Yellowstone has lived up to its reputation and Edward has been the best guide.

However, I notice a change in him as soon as he starts the engine. Lighthearted and easy-going all day, he now has some concern he's not sharing.

"Are you worried about the weather?"

"I'm sorry. I should have brought the Mazda."

Placing my hand on his thigh, I want to reassure him that I'm not troubled at all. "No. I love this car. We'll just take it easy if it snows."

He looks at me for the longest time, and then smiles. "Bella, I'm so…" He stops for a few seconds more, then raises my hand to his cheek. "I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." The sweet moment passes and I ask, "Do you have chains?"

"Yeah, in the trunk," he replies. "They're a pain in the ass."

Over the next half hour, we share stories about driving in winter, laughing at things that have happened to us: spinning out on black ice, stupid drivers and even more ridiculous car crashes we've seen. Edward eases back into his old self when he hears that Washington's weather is just as unpredictable as Montana's.

The sky is still threatening when he turns at a sign that says, "Firehole Lake Drive." We don't even have to leave the car to see the springs here, and we get lucky when one of them starts bubbling before our eyes. A plume of water rises into the air, and I grab my camera to record the explosion, but as soon as I start taking photos, it dies down again, leaving only an occasional rumble on the surface.

Our final stop is the Grand Prismatic Spring, an area dominated by a blue-green crater, leaking orange from its perimeter. The boardwalk is so close to its edge that I'm peering into its mouth when a breeze catches the steam and reveals its inner depths. Even the dark sky cannot diminish the vibrant colors.

Rivers of green liquid flow near it. A lake of gray marble bubbles and mists. By the time we leave, I've taken a hundred photos, and I know I could come back and take another thousand different images. Yellowstone is a photographer's dream.

The snow starts to fall, coming down silently with only the tiniest breath of wind. We arrive at our lodge, its roof and grounds already white and magical, and I know this day will remain etched on my memory forever. All the images I've taken will serve to remind me that I once had a birthday more blissfully happy than I could have ever imagined.

I get out of the car and close my eyes, lifting my face the sky. With my arms out sideways, I let the snowflakes coat me. When I open my eyes again, Edward has moved away, holding his phone up taking a photo of me, and I want to see what I look like, more content than I've felt in forever.

Looking at him and smiling, I know he's the real reason I feel this way, and I can't help running over and throwing my arms around his neck. My insides are screaming my love now and I want him to feel my affection.

We laugh and Edward lifts me off the ground, spinning me around, with a grin that must mirror my own. Kissing and laughing until we're almost frozen, we run back to the car for our bags. Then we stumble into the hotel like a couple of love-struck fools without a care in the world. At least I think that's what we are. I hope so. I've never experienced anything like it before, but I do know it feels right. It feels like everything's perfect.

The man at the reception counter greets us with an assumption. "Honeymoon?"

Edward puts his arm around me and kisses my hair. "Birthday."

"Ah, happy birthday," he responds with a smile, handing us our key and a map of the hotel, pointing out the location of our room.

"Two beds," I comment when we enter the room. "Which one is yours?"

"Dunno," he answers, sitting down and bouncing on both. Then he lies back on the bed nearest the bathroom, looking irresistible with his arms behind his head. "That one's for our bags."

I crawl up and join him. "Whatever will we do when it's snowing outside?"

Without waiting for his answer, I take his face in my hands and kiss him. I want to show him how much I appreciate the precious day he's given me. He responds tenderly, letting me lead with his hand gently in my hair.

I pull back and softly rub the tip of my nose against his. "Thank you so much for today."

"My pleasure," he says, moving my hair over my shoulder.

"Is there something I can do for you? Would you like a massage, a coffee?"

He rubs his hands over my back. "You could kiss me again. You're a fuckin' great kisser." I just smirk, because that's what I'd say about him, then his eyes light up mischievously. "I know. We could take some more photos."

"Photos?" I think I know what he has in mind, but I wait for him to reveal his intentions. Hearing him express his desires like this is sexy.

"That desk is perfectly positioned to hold your camera. What was the setting, one frame a minute?" Turning my head, I realize he's got this worked out already. Squeezing my ass, he adds, "Maybe you'll let me have some of them this time."

I stare at him, trying to relax the sudden tension in my chest before I can speak. "I don't…I don't usually let anyone have photos of me."

Suddenly, he gets up, grabbing his phone and handing it over. "I've already taken plenty of photos of you. Delete them if you want."

I look in his eyes and he's serious, testing my faith in him, and all of a sudden, I feel ridiculous. Every fiber in my body tells me to trust this man who has been real and open, sharing his life, his family, even his closest friends with me. He's given me his most private fantasies.

As I scroll through the images, I'm shocked there are so many he took without my knowing: Rose and I on the beach in Tulum; a rear shot of me sitting on our swing looking at the ocean; innocently sleeping in my pajamas in the cocoon of our mosquito net; in the street in Tulum's town, window shopping; asleep in his bed in Billings, barely covered by a sheet. There's the selfie he took of us in Red Lodge and more from today, capturing my reaction to something spectacular. The photos he just took of me outside in the snow are rare and very moving.

They're all simply amazing, a window into how he sees me, and through his eyes I look far better than I see myself. They stir strong emotions I don't recognize. I could crawl into his lap, curl up, and stay there forever.

Handing him the phone, I say, "Yes," to whatever he wants to propose.

"You want me to delete them?" he asks, nervously.

"No. Keep them, and let's take some more."

"Oh, Bella." A gush of air escapes him and he crushes me down on the bed, burying his face in my neck and holding me. I wrap my arms around him tightly, enjoying this singular moment that feels like a declaration of love from both sides.

* * *

"I still can't believe you convinced them to deliver the food."

"Hmm?" he asks, sitting cross-legged on the bed, fixated on the screen of the laptop. "It was a wise decision. They didn't want me down there in this bathrobe, scarin' the customers."

"You don't look scary to me." He looks edible. I'd peel that robe off him and go again if I had the energy.

"Believe me, I would have been terrifying. No room service? Who doesn't provide room service?"

I state the obvious. "We could have gone down there and eaten, Edward."

"I know, but this is the reason you stay in a hotel. I'd been drivin' since before dawn, and I'd just had two hours of hot sex with my girlfriend. I could hardly walk."

"Was it really two hours?"

"There are 123 photos here, so yeah. Look at this one." He turns the laptop toward me and I die. He's kneeling beside me and I'm half sitting up with all the pillows behind me, holding his cock with its tip in my mouth. My legs are spread facing the camera, and the only modesty I have is Edward's fingers stimulating me. "There are lots of these," he says, popping his eyebrows a couple of times.

I look at the image and remember how he held me on the edge of orgasm for an eternity, but now I sigh and turn away. "I should never have agreed to this."

"What's different about these from the other lot we took?"

"There was something wrong with the camera before, remember? Most of those images were blurry, and these are in focus."

"What about this one? This might be my favorite."

He hands me the laptop and snuggles in next to me. I look at the screen and melt. We're looking at each other and laughing. He'd been growling and biting my neck in fun, and the camera took the shot just after I screamed and pleaded for him to stop tickling me. "That's a great photo," I have to agree.

One minute later, the camera captured the back of his head as my fingers clutched his hair. I keep scrolling through, watching my face react to his lips on my breasts, his fingers pulling at my nipples as he moved lower, my head thrown back while his tongue worked its magic between my legs. There are so many images of him fucking me, moments where my hips are up off the bed to meet his thrusts, shots of sensual kissing when he stilled, trying to slow things down. God, I was so close that I begged for release, and the next photo captures us exploding simultaneously. Then he's kissing me softly and smiling, cherishing me, talking to me gently while I memorize the beauty of his face.

It only takes a few minutes to run through them all quickly and for me to feel aroused again. I lean down and tilt his chin up to kiss him, and he smells of me. Edward takes the laptop and places it on the floor, and I welcome him back with my arms when he kisses me just below my ear and slides his hand inside my robe.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_

Late posting this week because I've been reading Cold by shouldbecleaning (Hilary Bolton). Can't put it down.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Big love to the Harvestward Team for all your help and encouragement - Ipsita, Nic,**_ ** _VampyreGirl86!, a_** _ **nd SarcasticBimbo.**_

 _ **Favorite review this week was from redviolet - it was creative and a perfect fit. I still can't get the whistle out of my head:**_

 _ **"**_ ** _Baby it's hard when you feel like  
_** ** _You're broken and scarred  
_** ** _Nothing feels right, but when you're with me  
_** ** _I make you believe that I've got the key_**

 ** _That Edward, hes got the moves like..._** _ **"**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 18**_

Protesting over the attitude of the staff last night, Edward refuses to have breakfast at our lodge. He wants to go to the Old Faithful Inn, the largest log structure in the world, and close to the geyser we've come to see. With the snow ceasing overnight and the sky brighter this morning, I'm eager to see the historic hotel.

Inside, I pull off my cap and scarf, gawking up at the huge cavern soaring above us. With his arm around me, Edward points out the exposed timber beams and trusses required to support the colossal roof.

The place is crawling with tourists and I'm actually glad we didn't stay here. However, the dining room is starting to empty out, and we're able to get a table next to the glass with sun streaming in.

"How do we know when it's going to erupt next?" I ask the server as she pours our coffee.

"Visitor's Center. Out the front and take a right. Then take another right. Help yourselves to the buffet." Leaving our bill on the table, she turns on her heels and walks away.

"She was helpful," Edward mumbles sarcastically, picking up his phone.

"I suppose everyone asks her the same question."

"It's the reason everyone comes here, Bells. The next eruption is predicted for 10:30." He holds the phone up to show me, and I touch his arm, smiling at how resourceful he is.

"You are very useful, Mr. Cullen," I state, and he winks at me.

The server returns, announcing the buffet is about to close, and we get up immediately. Wandering around separately, I smile when I notice we've returned with similar choices.

Just before 10:30, we join the crowd of people waiting at the viewing area. Old Faithful does not erupt in the same location each time, and there's much speculation about which one will blow. When it does happen, it's without the rumbling underfoot I expected. Suddenly, one has a greater force behind it and a loud hissing sound. There are several rehearsals before it finally rises high into the sky, and it's not a brief blast, either. Old Faithful continues to delight us for many minutes, and I take a video to record it.

We take the road east for gas and then on to the lake. Edward wasn't kidding about its size—we're driving along the shore for ages before we reach the Lake Yellowstone Hotel. He tells me the same man who worked on the Old Faithful Inn redesigned it around 1900, but they are nothing alike.

This hotel is classically elegant and full of natural light. Watching guests reading and enjoying the view of the snow on the mountains, I ask if we can stay for coffee. Five minutes later, we're seated in a grand dining room, choosing from the dessert menu.

Edward asks the waiter to take our photo, and he pulls me close with his arm around my shoulder. The result is a picture of a very happy couple who look like we've been together for years. When we get back in the car, I kiss him to thank him for being so flexible, but as soon as we drive out, I have to request he stops once more when I see bison grazing on grass around the nearby cabins.

Edward starts to yawn just outside Cody, so we stop to stretch our legs. The main street has a similar feel to Red Lodge, but this is a big tourist town—the home of Buffalo Bill. When I offer to drive, he says he's fine. Knowing men can be possessive about their cars, I don't argue, but when we arrive back at the Pollard, he is obviously tired.

I suggest an early night, but he wants to take me to a movie at the Roman Theater, saying it's the oldest in Montana, and a real treat. Knowing our time together is limited, I agree, and when we walk in, I'm surprised to find they use the hundred-year-old theater for live performances and local events. There's a poster advertising tickets for a ski film showing in November—an evening to celebrate the opening day of the Red Lodge Mountain ski field.

Having arrived early, we're able to sit in one of the two-seater sofas in the theater, sharing popcorn and kisses, and I thoroughly enjoy the movie called _Hell or High Water_ about two brothers who turn to bank robbery to save the family farm.

Back at the hotel, Edward falls asleep just minutes into a back massage I continue for my own pleasure.

* * *

I'm woken by the sight of Edward coming back from his meeting, looking gorgeous in a suit. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning," he says, placing his car keys on a side table, while I stretch.

"You're in a good mood," I observe, catching his infectious smile and making it my own. The man is absolutely stunning this morning.

Taking off his jacket and hanging it on a chair, he joins me on the bed. "I just got paid and now there's a new contract on the table for a much bigger job."

My heart misses a beat, but I smile and run my fingers through his hair, saying it's great news. It _is_ great and I'm _am_ excited for him, but it's another thing tying him to this part of the country, just as the business venture with Sam will.

"I hate to tell you this, sleeping beauty, but we're supposed to check out in fifteen minutes."

I had no idea it was so late and I apologize, scrambling to get up and into the shower. When I come out, he's exactly where I left him.

"Bella, I want to show you something before we go back to Billings."

I'm happy to go wherever he wants. This whole area around the Montana/Wyoming border has been an unexpected delight.

Driving a few miles south of Red Lodge, we turn west, ending up in a new housing development. Edward points out the location of the planned golf course and I ask him if this is a project he's been involved in. He snorts, shaking his head, and I look around, thinking we're taking a shortcut to somewhere else.

At the end of the housing estate, Edward cuts the engine and gets out. He leans on a wire fence, staring at the mountains beyond, and I wonder what we are doing here. Surely, an architect can't aspire to this kind of housing. Thinking of his current place of residence, I wonder if I _have_ been wearing rose-colored glasses all along. I rest my back against the fence, trying to imagine what he sees in this this place.

He asks, "What do you think?" and my gut twists in disappointment. For all I know he may not have money saved, and this is all he can afford. I want to be honest, but I have to choose my words carefully so I don't hurt him.

Taking the coward's option, I reply, "I don't know."

"You're lookin' the wrong way, Bells." He turns me around, leaving his arms around my shoulders, and now I have no idea what I'm looking at. It's endless land, rolling up to spectacular mountains and a much better view than the one behind us.

"It's lovely. I bet it's stunning in the snow."

He kisses my cheek. "Yeah, with all those trees on the mountain. I think I prefer to look up at mountains and enjoy them rather than be perched on top. I like their protection."

"I wonder how long it takes for mountains to erupt like this. Was the ground we're standing on shaking and rumbling?"

With a soft chuckle, he responds. "Probably. They come out of nowhere. Dramatic isn't it?"

"It's beautiful," I state, still unsure why we are here.

"This twenty acres is not part of the housing development, and there are no plans to bring sewer, power, or water up this far, so it's cheap, and there will never be anything blocking that view."

"This is for sale," I realize, relieved I was wrong about his ambition.

"Yeah, from here to the base of that mountain."

"What would you do with twenty acres?"

"Rent some of it. People are looking for land to raise deer. Emily wants to grow Christmas trees." Holding his arm out and pointing, he adds, "There's a creek over there."

 _Land._

 _He wants to invest in land._

I'm daydreaming when a deer comes over a hill, tall and majestic. Its snout lifts as it takes in our scent, and I marvel at the size of its antlers. It's a huge buck and well fed, too, with its brown collar thickening, ready to stave off the cold that's coming.

"It's still kinda wild here and we'd have to have to live off the grid, but the housing estate means the roads would be cleared in winter."

It takes me a moment to process what he just said before I can ask him to clarify. "You want to live here?"

"Yeah."

I turn around to evaluate this properly. "What about all those houses?"

"A few rows of trees along the boundary would hide them and absorb most of the sound. Bella, I know what it's like to live where you can't see other lights, and it's spooky. I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving my family like that. This way, there's community around us when we want it."

 _Us._

"Our kids would have playmates. They'd be able to catch the school bus with their friends. Young families are moving in here."

 _Our kids._

Wow. In his head, he's already planning my future as his partner, the mother of his children, without giving me any say in the matter.

"You've got it all worked out, haven't you?"

He stares at me and raises his eyebrows. "I said I've been looking around for a while, and this place checks a few boxes for me. I keep coming back to look at it again, but it's just one option, Bella, something to consider."

"How long would we have to live off the grid?"

"I'm not sure. Is that a deal breaker? Out of all of the people I know, I never thought you would find the idea intimidating. I promise we'd still be comfortable."

"I'm just asking a question, Edward. This is all very new to me."

He rubs the back of his neck. "I only wanted you to see it while we're here." The buck is still staring, in what looks like a state of alert, and now I observe it's guarding a handful of does and fawns, grazing nearby. "Are you ready to go back to Billings?"

"Sure," I answer, taking one last look. As if it knows we're leaving, the buck turns and moves away slowly.

We don't discuss the land on the drive back, reminiscing about the last few days and discussing our first week back at work. Edward wonders when Emily will go into labor, and my thoughts drift to Rose.

In the silences between conversations, I'm deep in thought, aware he's asking for a big commitment based on a two-week relationship. I'm sure that I love him, but I wish we'd known each other longer before we had to reach such a pivotal point in our relationship.

We have dinner at a Tapas bar in Billings where the food is sensational and several glasses of sangria loosen me up. In his brown button down and dark jeans, Edward is so handsome, I can't keep my hands off him.

When I start running my nose along his ear, he signals for the check and we're soon in our jackets and out of the restaurant. Walking to the car, I'm suddenly emboldened to say what I've been thinking all evening.

"What if I asked you to move to Seattle?"

His eyes narrow and then soften. "You've already told me you weren't planning on staying in the city. Where would we be going?"

"I never got that far, did I, but we'd be isolated from our families if we lived in Red Lodge. Mine would have to catch a plane to see me, and it's a long drive from your parents' farm."

"I'd build plenty of space for them to stay."

I just stare at him as reality bites. "Would my parents come all this way when I don't go to them?" He doesn't answer, looking like he's measuring his response, making me wish I'd never asked the question.

"I don't know them, Bella, but I imagine it must hurt when you won't go back. Five years is enough time to heal from what happened."

My eyes drown in emotion. "I…I can't go back."

"You _can_ go back and you should." After a sigh, he asks, "Has anything happened to make you think a threat still exists?"

I shake my head as tears roll down my cheeks. His shoulders drop and he takes me in his arms.

"Then it will be the best thing you ever did. Let me take you there. I need to meet them, and I promise I won't leave your side." I sob into his jacket, hating the idea of returning. Hugging me tighter, he says. "Christ, I don't want you to leave tomorrow."

I wipe at my tears. "I don't have a choice, Edward." In frustration, he runs his fingers through his hair. "We have to be able to separate from each other. This—being together all the time is not reality."

"And neither is being apart for the next five weeks."

"Well, you find a spot." I bring up my calendar and shove the phone at him. He studies it for a minute before he speaks.

"Okay, so you're committed next week, but you've set aside a big chunk of time to move out of the house."

"It's about a week, Edward."

"No, it's the 25th of September until the 6th of October. That's not a week."

I huff, snatching the phone back. "It's not like I'm putting it all in a moving truck. I have to work out what I'm going to keep."

"Then let me help you."

"Why would you want to be around when I dismantle my past? There are memories in that house—things to work through."

"Because you are clinging to a past that makes you miserable."

"Ugh!" I storm away toward the car. "Now you sound like Tyler."

We get in and he turns to me, holding my face. "I don't want to spend our time arguing, Bella. Let's talk about it when you're back in Seattle and we see what it's like being apart."

"Okay." I nod and he kisses me softly, then hum as he deepens the kiss.

He pulls away just as I was getting ready to climb into the driver's seat and do things I would have never considered just weeks ago, but my boyfriend has the good sense to stop me.

"C'mon. Let's get you home," he says, starting the engine.

As soon as we're in bed, the sangria catches up with me. With my cheek on Edward's chest and his arms around me, I fall asleep, forgetting all thoughts of having to leave in the morning.

* * *

 _Run. Keep running. It doesn't matter that your throat is on fire. You are putting distance between yourself and a giant mistake. Nothing is going to change what you just witnessed._

"Bella."

I open my eyes with a start to find Edward rubbing his thumb across my cheek. "Is it time to get up?"

"No, it's three o'clock. You're cryin' in your sleep, Bells."

I _was_ crying. I still _am_ crying in Edward's bed, and I cling to him, relieved it was only a dream.

He hugs me back and shows no signs of letting go. I'm the one who loosens my arms, sorry I've woken him up.

"You want to tell me about it?"

It's just a stupid dream I had no control over, and I answer while I still remember.

"I was missing you so much that I flew to Billings to surprise you. The cab took me through Downtown and I saw you standing in the street outside the restaurant from last night. I got out of the cab, ready to call out your name when Tanya walked up to you, and I saw your face, Edward. I saw a look of love that constricted my throat and tore my heart in two. I was running away as fast as I could when you woke me."

He looks at me tenderly. "Surely, you are not concerned about Tanya."

"Subconsciously, I guess I must be. Remember, when she came to your house and asked if you were coming home?"

"Bella." He kisses me softly. "How could I even look at another woman now?"

He has no idea how he will feel when he hasn't seen me for weeks. I resign myself to the knowledge that absence does not make the heart grow fonder.

"When I'm gone, you'll look and wonder if I'm worth it."

"Will I?" he asks, challenging me.

"You know you will." I can't even look at him now.

Tilting my chin toward him, his lips move, but he pauses as if he's finding the right words.

"I think it's time I told you somethin'." He pauses, moving my hair back tenderly. "I've never felt this way about another woman."

I touch his face, appreciating an honesty I can only aspire to.

"You captivated me long before we met, and every day the pull is stronger. You keep amazing me with your strengths, your incredible talent, and all your unfounded weaknesses. I just wish you could see yourself as I do."

He's making me blush, conquering all my insecurities with compliments.

"You're blossoming sexually, and this may sound arrogant, but I honestly feel it's because of me."

"It _is_ because of you." I cup his cheek. He's not arrogant. He's knows the way I respond to him.

"But I know you need to heal, and I can help make you whole again."

I nod, imagining the future he sees, and in that moment, I know he will achieve anything he sets his mind and energy to. He's incredible, and it's high time I told him how I feel.

"I love you, Edward Cullen."

"Oh, baby, I love you, too." His smile is dazzling and the kiss is sublime. It takes me to a place where I see beyond the barriers we face, where I can relinquish the negativity of a past I used to cling to.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Thank you to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic,**_ ** _VampyreGirl86!, a_** _ **nd SarcasticBimbo - for fixing my mistakes.**_

 _ **Speaking of fixing, many of you want to fix Bella, have her accept Edward's fine offer and embrace a new future. But is there a pill or an instant fix for something that has taken years to evolve? It has only been a few weeks since these two first met in Montana, so I think she needs time.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter**_ _ **19**_

Two hours in the air gave me plenty of time to go over the long talk we had last night. We came to an understanding, I think, agreeing this wouldn't work if we didn't communicate every day. A short conversation was all it would take to show each other that we were important.

We had things to work on, too. Edward would try to curb his need for everything to happen yesterday (he actually admitted he was hoping I'd want to stay for good and not return to Seattle) and I would try to stop doubting myself and his commitment to me. We both knew it would take adjustments to accommodate the relationship, but it was easy to agree that we wanted to be back together as soon as we could.

It was a start, a good step forward for both of us.

As I wait for my bag to come off the flight, I send Edward a text to say I made it okay. I promised I would, and failing to honor promises is one of the finer points that can undermine a relationship.

I spot Ang waiting near the pay machine at the Airport Garage, and I'm scrambling for cash when she holds out her arm to stop me.

"It's three bucks, Bella."

"Okay." If I say another word, she will launch into one of her speeches about how I've been providing a roof over her head, but I can never repay her for her loyal friendship, humor, and tolerance over the years. I'm going to miss her dearly, but she deserves to be happy in her new life with Ben, and I'm pleased it was me who brought them together.

She pops the trunk and asks, "So, when are you going to see him again?"

We lift the suitcase together. "I've invited him to the wedding if that's okay."

"Of course it is, but...that's a long time from now."

"He wants to help me move out of the house."

"Well, that's a good offer, girl. Take it."

"I know. It's time to move on."

She looks at me as if I've stunned her speechless, taking a few seconds to utter, "It is."

"Edward also wants to meet Mom and Dad..." She raises her eyebrows and stares at me. "He's going to take me to Forks."

"Well, Hallelujah, sister!" Her enthusiastic hug is such an affirmation, I have to hold back tears of joy. "I am dying to meet this guy."

My phone pings and I smile when I read Edward's text. _"Thanks for letting me know, Bells. I'll call you tonight."_

* * *

Angela leaves for a meeting in the city, and the first thing I do is a half hour of yoga. I need to exercise to free my mind before I can concentrate on the trip to Rainier.

After taking an inventory, I stop by the local camping store to replenish my supplies and pick up the tent. I'm delighted to find they've done a superb job of replacing the main zipper, which now runs smoothly. On my way home, I call in at U-Haul and leave with prices for moving trucks, U-Box containers, local storage units, and a pile of boxes to start packing my stuff.

Setting my camping gear out, I check each item off a list I've refined over the years. What I take now is carefully chosen for its size and weight, allowing me to camp for extended periods. It gives me a better chance of capturing the kind of shots that entice visitors into the park.

Planet Earth is at its most changeable and dramatic around dawn and dusk, and at this time of year, high humidity and plummeting temperatures can produce banks of clouds that float at the base of the mountains. Getting shots of the phenomenon is what I'm after on this trip.

I haven't had to plot exact locations because Peter is coming as my guide. It was unfortunate he was stationed on the eastern side of the park the whole time I worked in Rainier, but his knowledge of this area will be invaluable. Looking forward to finally catching up with him and hearing about his expanding family, I still can't believe his new daughter is a year old already.

Peter and Charlotte had no family in Forks, so they've never had a reason to go back. Since Peter warned me to leave town long before the trial, he should understand my trepidation in returning. I hope he's going to confirm it's the right decision, but either way, I've made a promise to Edward I intend to keep.

"Tyler's coming for dinner," Angela announces when she comes home. "He says he will come bearing gifts if we feed him."

A stream of memories rush through my head, and my heart feels the weight of the end of an era. "Oh, Ang. This might be our last one."

Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, she says, "We _can_ continue at our new place.

It's not losing this venue that's causing my heart to sink. When Tyler leaves Seattle, impromptu Friday nights will never be the same again.

"Italian," is all I can think to suggest.

"How about clams?" she offers, perking me up when I recall how we demolished every mouthful last time we cooked them. When I nod and smile, she says, "Let's hit the market."

While we shop, she asks what we did for my birthday and how I enjoyed Yellowstone. Her face lights up as I describe the vivid colors in the bubbling liquids, the mystical sight of the rising steam, the snowstorm that held off until we reached our hotel, and the power of Old Faithful. When I tell her I took hundreds of photos, she asks which magazines I'm going to submit them to, and I acknowledge I have some research to do.

Unfortunately, there has been a hiccup in the wedding arrangements. Mrs. Weber has stayed in the background until now, accepting her daughter's choices for her wedding, and we both thought everything was finalized. Now it's getting close, she's interfering, stressing Angela about the weather and demanding back up plans—over-complicating a very simple ceremony.

 _I know this is still about Ben refusing to marry in the First Baptist Church in Forks. In Ben's defense, he did entertain the idea at first, even attending Sunday services for Angela's sake, but sitting through Pastor Weber's fire and brimstone sermons convinced him to argue against it. I admired her siding with him against them, and I understood completely, having attended church with Angela on many occasions._

 _Mrs. Weber would purse her lips and shoot accusatory stares at members of the congregation while her husband espoused the evils of sin and lust, messing with my burgeoning interest in boys. None of the local boys were brave enough to ask the chief's daughter out on a date anyway, but I formed deep-seated fears that Mom and Dad would find out I'd done something wicked and ground me forever._

 _It wasn't fair, either, when my parents weren't bound by religion. Dad's Sunday mornings were happiest spent with a fishing rod in his hand at the river, while Mom was involved in her own way, donating baked goods to nourish the congregation with a cup of tea after church. I think she knew they needed something to make them feel normal again._

 _There were only a handful of people coming to the wedding from Forks, and it wasn't as if Ben ever intended to let them baptize him, so Pastor Weber agreed to marry them in Seattle._

 _We're not going to tell him the best man is gay._

"Mom says we need to clear the restaurant for the ceremony."

Rolling my eyes, I remind her, "She said she didn't want you saying your vows in a room with a bar."

"I know, but she's giving me money towards the wedding."

"Instead of a gift, remember? Don't let her contradict your plans now."

"But it makes me worry I haven't..."

I cut her off, watching her confidence evaporate before my eyes. "Ang, these people hold weddings all the time. We both knew this was your venue as soon as we walked in and spoke to them, and it's going to be beautiful. Your photos will be stunning with the water and boats in the background, and Ben likes the way they've lit the room. It's perfect."

She slumps against me. "God, I'm so glad you are back." I love that she needs me sometimes as much as I need her.

By the time Ben arrives, the sauce is ready to cook the clams, and Angela places the garlic bread in the oven. After a quick hello, he leans down to talk to her quietly. She kisses him and they smile sweetly at each other. I can't help watching them, envious of the intimacy they share, and wishing…

 _God, it hasn't even been a whole day since I said goodbye to Edward, and I'm already missing him. Being apart is going to be hell._

Tyler walks in with wine and a large box he places on the couch.

"What are you two vixens creating?" As always, he's groomed to perfection, embracing us with a kiss on both cheeks. "How do you manage all this and still look fabulous?" The man has been saying this same thing for years, but it still makes us giggle every time.

"Clams in a spicy tomato sauce," Angela announces confidently.

Placing three limes on the counter, he declares, "You know I would have laid money on Mexican food tonight." He flings his arms out flamboyantly, dancing up to me, swiveling his hips. "Are you sick of the salsa, Bella?"

The double entendre doesn't escape me. I've seen women who don't know he's gay shaken by his blatant sexuality, but I lift my chin and hold my ground. Tonight his eyes bore into me, searching my whole face for something.

"How was Tulum? Eco-chic? Did you detox with any A-Listers?"

"She didn't even take one yoga class," Ang replies.

He comes back with a salacious smirk. "Well, you look—different."

"Tulum was as good as it gets, Tyler, if you like warm ocean, white sand, great food, and fantastic company."

"A man chased you to Mexico, Bella." I glance at Angela, who nervously smiles, busy turning on the stove. She has obviously told him about Edward. "I need photos."

"Later. First, I brought you all something back."

Nothing is wrapped, so I stuff each present in a duty free bag to bring them out. Ang loves her alpaca blanket. I knew the colors would appeal. Ben's eyes light up when he pulls out his bottle of mescal.

"A whip. Whatever do you think of me?" Tyler asks, feigning indignation.

"I thought of you when I saw it," I answer innocently, and then can't help laughing.

"I'm sure one of my cohorts will educate me on its use." He winks and goes over to the couch, picking up the box and handing it to Angela. "I said I would come bearing gifts."

"Oh, it's heavy," she remarks.

"Here, let me," he offers, opening the lid and tissue paper, lovingly lifting a length of ivory faux fur, tipped with the palest hint of gold. Wrapping it around her shoulders, he says, "You girls will need to keep warm on the day. I have another here for Bella." He waits for her smile before bringing mine out and I catch my breath when I see how beautifully the strands of different browns have been subtly blended together. It's so soft, I snuggle against it.

"Happy birthday," he whispers and I silently thank him. He takes his time showing us the different ways we can wear them, explaining he saw the fabric and couldn't resist. Angela prefers the full cover-up, using hidden catches at the shoulders, and she does look fantastic—sort of princess-like.

"I feel beautiful," she gushes and hugs him.

I like the classic wrap style, realizing I have the perfect piece of jewelry to complement the autumn colors. When I come back out, wearing my firestone necklace, Angela starts to cry.

"Thank you, Tyler," she chokes out, wiping her eyes. "I would have never thought of something like this, and I love that you made them."

"Then my work is done." He grins triumphantly. "Now put them back in the box before you spill something on them," he adds, turning Angela's tears into laughter. "Show me the stone, Bella. Is that an opal?"

"It's a fire agate—quartz, I believe."

He takes it in his fingers, closely examining the colors, and lets it go with one word, "Fascinating."

I'm content to play hostess over dinner, refilling their glasses of wine. Tyler entertains us by wearing Garrett's "ghastly" black and gold sombrero while he gossips about the team working on his collection for Fashion Week.

He outlines what he's expecting from us and it's gratifying that he trusts Ben and I with this very important event. Ben is in charge of lighting and I'm following Tyler around to capture the final week, right up until his models strut the catwalk. Hoping it all goes smoothly, I'm preparing for emotional outbursts and last minute stress.

"By the way, I've changed my name legally now. I'm debuting as Tyler Crowe."

"Aw, no more Crowley Bug?" Ang asks in mock disappointment. We know how much Tyler hates the nickname he earned in high school during his emo phase.

"You just had to go there, didn't you, Cruella." With a shiver, he turns away from her, shaking his head.

"I can't take you seriously in the hat, Tyler," Ben states.

Sighing, he removes the sombrero and tosses it to the couch, running both hands through his long hair, and stares at me. Ang and Ben know he was bullied at school, but I believe only I know his struggle with depression, how he locked himself away in his bedroom sketching, eventually moving away from wealthy parents who failed to recognize he had a problem, or acknowledge the great talent emerging in their troubled son.

 _Tyler was my first male friend in Seattle. Although we were enrolled in different courses, we were older than most of the other students, and didn't fit in. We usually ate lunch together and gradually built enough trust to share the secrets of our past and our fears for the future. We'd both had only one sexual experience that scarred us for life. To this day, I still regret giving away my virginity to a prom date I hardly knew._

" _Who is Jake to you, Bella?" Tyler asked on a rainy Sunday afternoon when he was my subject for a black and white portrait assignment. "He's not your boyfriend."_

" _No, he's like you, Tyler. I have the freedom to love you without you wanting more from me."_

 _It was only because I was studying his face through the lens that I saw his expression change. Lowering the camera, I asked, "What?"_

 _It took him a while to respond. "He's not like me, Bella. Jake wants to possess you."_

" _What do you mean?" I asked, confused. Tyler knew we'd been friends since we were children._

" _You're beautiful and single."_

 _Snorting at the strangely ill-timed compliment, I felt a nervous twinge in the pit of my stomach, as if his next words might put a strain on our friendship, and I held the camera up like a shield._

 _Looking directly at the lens, he announced, "And I'm gay."_

 _The camera hid my shock as I took a burst of photos. Maybe I was completely naive, but I never picked Tyler as gay._

" _You said you had sex with that girl."_

" _I've made mistakes," he said softly but surely._

" _So have I," I responded with way more gusto, and that's all we needed to say. I didn't ask him to elaborate, and Tyler's sexuality has never played a part in our friendship._

It was the only time he ever directly warned me about Jake, but I felt his disdain in the excuses he made to avoid socializing with us. I should have taken more notice, looked for the signs that validated his perception, because he was so right. Jake _did_ want a wife to possess, and I turned out to be a bitter disappointment.

My phone rings from where I left it on the kitchen counter, and I smile when I get up to see Edward's name. Excusing myself, I go into my room to have him to myself.

" _Good time? Bad time?"_ he asks.

"It's always a good time if you're calling, mister."

" _Ah, that's my girl."_ I can hear the smile in his voice. _"What are you doin' tonight?"_

"Just having dinner with friends at my place. Angela and I cooked clams."

" _Any good?"_

"Mmm, I'll cook them for you when you come to Seattle, and you can decide."

" _I'll look forward to that, Bells."_

I have to tell him. "You know I love you calling me that name."

He chuckles and I melt, hearing the deep masculine sound resonating through the phone.

"I've already packed for Rainier and I'm going to start tackling the house in the morning. You motivated me."

" _That's good to hear, because you motivate me, too."_

"In what way?" I ask, lying back on the pillows.

" _I left a message for Tanya. I want to see her this weekend and give her back her CD's. I'm tellin' her we can't see each other again."_

I close my eyes, imagining her face when he delivers what I'm sure will devastate her. The faint sound of an incoming call on Edward's phone stops abruptly like he's cut it off.

"How do you think that will go?"

" _No idea, but it's not fair to drag it out when I'm crazy about someone else."_

I grin because I couldn't have wished for a better response. "And who would that be?"

" _Oh, just someone who's got me body and soul. I can't stop thinkin' about her."_

"You're a charmer, Edward Cullen."

" _No, just head over heels in love."_

The yearning to curl up in his lap is so strong, I would kill to have him here with me. "Me too. It's a crazy feeling, isn't it?"

" _It's the best feelin' in the whole world."_

The sound of another incoming call distracts me. "Do you need to answer that?"

" _It's just Tanya. I'll flick it to voicemail."_

"Why don't you take the call and put the poor girl out of her misery? I'll go back to my guests."

" _You're probably right. Okay, Bells, I'll call you tomorrow. I miss you."_

"I miss you, too."

I leave my bedroom, smiling at my phone, and the muted conversation around the dining table fades away. They're all staring at me.

"Are you serious about this guy?" Tyler asks.

I answer honestly. "I don't know. I think so, but I've never felt this way before."

"Whoa. Hold onto your horses there, girly. You're falling for a cowboy?"

Bristling at his choice of words, I rebel, "He's not a cowboy, Tyler."

"I have nothing against cowboys, but you just got divorced."

"He's an architect—a designer, like you."

Ben responds. "Don't get sensitive, Bella. Remember I drove back with you from Montana."

Sighing, I know I must have given him whiplash with my changing opinions of Edward. I also know I'd be exactly the same if one of them presented a new relationship like this because it _is_ too soon. "I didn't plan for this to happen..."

Tyler butts in. "You met him, Ben. What was he like?"

"I didn't have much to do with him really, but it was obvious he was smitten with Bella. The first time I saw him, he looked like he was about to eat her alive."

"Ben," Angela chastens him, and I gather he's told her all about that night.

"She wasn't exactly fighting him off, either. It was very out of character."

"Tell me more," Tyler begs as I narrow my eyes at Ben.

"The family is great, except for the brother, who's kinda weird."

I have to defend him. "Emmett Cullen is completely different away from his parents."

"If Edward lives in Montana, when do you see each other?" Tyler asks.

"Whenever we can," I reply, staring at my hands, already knowing a few days here and there won't be enough.

"Could he relocate to Seattle?"

Looking up, I take a deep breath. "I'm not going to ask him to move here. He has too many reasons to stay where he is."

"So what's the alternative?"

"I don't know, Tyler."

He shakes his head. "You are a beautiful and talented woman who could have your pick of any man in this city. Don't you think it's time to consider what _you_ want before committing to something new?"

"Maybe I don't know what I want yet."

"Then treat this as a fling and let him spoil you, play the field, and get some goddamn experience."

I look at Ang for support so I can calmly respond. "None of that would work for me." Ang knows that Edward is much more than a fling, and the last thing I'd do right now is seek out other men to date.

"Stop lecturing her," she reprimands him. "You don't walk in her shoes."

Tyler pulls his hair back and holds it in a ponytail. "No, but I know where they've been."

"Leave her alone," Ang pleads, clearing the table. When I stand, Ben tells me he'll help her.

Tyler takes my hand and holds it to his face. "I'm sorry, but I hate that you don't realize how incredible you are."

"Thank you," I mumble without smiling. He's biased, and I'm not incredible.

"Can I please see the photos now or are you angry with me?" he asks.

"I'm not angry," I reply and leave the room to get my laptop. Spying the unopened bottle of Masen's Whiskey, I suddenly want them all to try it, so I bring it out and place it on the counter in front of Ben. "Two fingers each."

"Anyone want ice?" he asks, finding the good glasses.

"You drink this one neat," I correct him, just as Edward did that first night.

With my incriminating shots safely tucked away in a labyrinth of subfolders, I confidently plug the laptop into the television. Ang has seen many of the photos before, so she finishes tidying the kitchen. Ben hands out the drinks, and everyone agrees the whiskey is exceptional on its own.

Tyler sits with his eyes fixed on the screen and Ben adds a few comments here and there as we go through the best of the harvest shoot. When I move on to the shots of the beach in Tulum, Tyler gasps. "Jesus, Bella, how did you find this man?"

"Actually, he found me through my photographs."

"How does he walk?"

I know exactly what he's asking and I sigh. "Like a dream."

"No wiggle?"

"Uh, uh."

"He's tall."

"Mmm…six two."

"Can I have him for the catwalk in Seattle?"

I snort. "He's not actually a model, Tyler. Anyway, male models at Fashion Week? You'll create a scandal."

"Most of my models are men, chickadee. If I'm going to succeed, it won't be by following what everyone else does."

Angela offers more whiskey and joins us for the photos I took around Billings. Maybe I only saw the best of the place, but their questions and comments show their surprise and approval.

"Is that his car?" Tyler holds his palm to his chest, positively enchanted.

Ben responds. "Yep, he drives a baby blue Mustang Mach 1. You should hear the engine. Did you find out what year it is, Bella?"

"1973." I answer, forwarding through dozens of images of the car and Edward at the wheel.

I'm sorry I didn't take a picture of Sam and Emily together, and I moved the photos from her private session away from this folder, so the next image is dawn on the Beartooth Highway. They crack up over the bison traffic jam and seem quite smitten with Yellowstone. There's one particular photo where Edward does look like a model, emerging from clouds of steam, which makes Tyler speak again.

"Ask him, Bella. Tell him I'll pay his airfares and throw in a couple of grand."

"You're drunk. Anyway, he's coming here in a week and then back for the wedding. It's already asking way too much."

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting him," he states with a smirk.

Watching Tyler's growing reaction to Edward's obvious sex appeal makes me feel possessive, and I'm only half-joking when I warn him. "Keep your hands off him, Tyler. He's mine."

My three friends whoop and laugh like they're rejoicing my reaction, and I have to admit it's a great feeling to have someone to protect, even if it's just from a gay friend who doesn't have a hope in hell of getting anywhere with my man.

 ** _Thanks for reading xo_**

 ** _I started "The Fall" today by MissWinkles. I'm only on chapter 9 and I don't know what's coming, but I'm hooked._**


	20. Chapter 20

_**Thank you to the Harvestward Team - Ipsita, Nic, and**_ ** _VampyreGirl86._** _ **SarcasticBimbo was not on board for this chapter - all mistakes are mine.**_

 _ **This is a slightly shorter chapter. After this, Bella goes back to work and the story shifts slightly, so I wanted to break it here.**_

 _ **It never ceases to amaze me the different takes I get in reviews. Some of you think Tyler is out of line and others say she needs to hear what he says. Many are speculating on whether Tyler will convince Edward to model for him, but I'm not giving that away.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter**_ _ **20**_

I peek into the spare room early on Saturday morning, making sure Tyler didn't try to go home. He's lying on his stomach with one big bare foot hanging off the bed. We finished the bottle before the evening ended, but I don't have a hangover at all—must have been that smooth organic whiskey.

Going to bed, my mind had been clear enough to search YouTube for advice on throwing out and decluttering. I found everything from people religiously spending half an hour a week filling a trash bag, to the minimalist video channels and episodes of "Hoarders."

None of the categories I viewed fit me exactly, but they all touched on a similar message that resonated—only hang on to material possessions that enrich our lives.

With a good strong coffee to keep me company, I begin the task of sorting my belongings into trash, donations, and the things I'll take with me to my new life, wherever it will be.

I knew this was going to be an emotional process, but it doesn't take long for the living room to become a mess, with uncertain piles merging into each other, and indecision everywhere. I've littered the floor with photos: versions of the three generation Black family portraits, Jake and his friends chilling at the reservation, Leo chasing birds at the beach, hideous prom snaps Mom took of me and Felix on our porch, wedding photos—examples of bad decisions I made.

"Bella! What the hell?"

Wiping tears from my cheeks, I look up at Ang, embarrassed and disappointed with myself.

"I thought I could do this, but it's overwhelming."

"You've signed legal documents, hon. You don't have a choice."

"This is only the first fucking room, and I'm appalled I have so much crap. I forgot about most of the stuff in here."

"Stand up," she commands.

Cautiously, I get up and she envelopes me in a tight hug. Instantly, my world is better, safer, less complicated, but the waterworks return in a flood. For what seems like an eternity, she holds me, softly telling me to let everything out. When I loosen my arms, she smiles and asks, "Better?" With quiet laughter, I nod and wipe my eyes.

"So what are we looking at here?" she asks, pushing the edges of the piles with her feet.

"Trash, donations and what I'm keeping."

"Donations? Some of this stuff has never been used. Why not put it on ebay?"

"I can't be bothered mailing things or being here every time someone wants to pick up."

"I'm happy to sell them for you."

"No. Goodwill needs them more than I do."

After a long sigh, she examines the chaos I've created. "Okay, but what's going on with the photos?"

"That's where I stumbled. They're all reminders of times I messed up my life."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

Suddenly, I'm full of rage, kicking the photos into the air.

"Stop it!" she scolds.

"Every time I fuck up, I have to start over. I'm so sick of it, Ang."

She takes hold of my arms and forces me to look at her. "Listen here. There are people who would kill to be you. The things you see as fuck ups have actually been opportunities. Sure, you left Forks under awful circumstances, but at least you're not still there, dirt poor with four-and-a-half kids. For heaven's sake, you won a competition that paid for your college tuition. Do you know how much I still owe?" I shake my head, but I can imagine.

"So you married the wrong guy, but now you know what to look for in a new partner, and let's face it, handsome men like Edward don't pursue just anyone. He must see the success you've made of your life, and a future that only you hold back with your own lack of confidence."

"I'm so in love with him it scares me."

"What scares you?"

"He's already mentioned marriage. He took me to see twenty acres of land he wants to buy so he can build a home for us. What do I do with that?"

She shrugs. "Depends. What was it like?"

"There were wild deer there, Ang."

"Too isolated?"

"Not really. An hour south of Billings and five minutes from a tourist town called Red Lodge, but there's no power or water—we'd be living off the grid."

"And he's an architect."

"Yes."

Holding my shoulders, she says, "It actually sounds right up your alley."

Rubbing my forehead, I screw my face up in frustration. "I know it is, and maybe the whole thing is _too_ perfect."

She shakes her head and starts picking up the photos. "Too perfect? I knew straight away Ben was the one for me and I've never faltered."

"Your past wasn't complicated like mine."

"I know that, but you don't have to let it ruin your future."

A long slow sigh escapes me. "I already told Edward I love him."

"You didn't mean it?" Tyler's voice comes from behind us and I hate that he's overhead me.

"No, I _did_ mean it, but in the cold light of day, I'm here and he's there, and I don't really know how we're going to be together."

Tyler bangs his head against the door jam. "I have to go home. Thanks for last night, but I can't stay and listen to this. If you really do love him, then you'll stop making excuses."

As I try to follow after him, I'm met by the front door closing in my face. Angela stares at me for a few moments, looking drained. "I'm going back to bed for a while." Opening her bedroom door, she leaves me alone and bewildered.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into the silence of an empty hallway.

* * *

The day crawls as I wade through a sea of possessions. After my meltdown and the reaction from my friends, I'm numb, devoid of emotion, robotically making decisions about what to throw out.

As if she wants nothing more to do with me, Angela goes through the kitchen, taking everything of hers out to her car. When I ask if she's moving out early, she looks disappointed, saying this feels like the only way I'll accept her help.

Ben offers to take a load to Goodwill on his way home, and I've completely forgotten he has to pack for the move to their new place.

I don't feel like much of a friend at the moment.

By the end of the day, the living room, laundry and linen closet are done.

And the only time I feel alive is when Edward calls.

" _Hey, beautiful."_ The greeting is like a jolt to my heart, restarting the flow of blood in my veins.

"Hi there." I smile and tuck a foot under me as I sit on the couch.

" _Guess what?"_

"What?" I inquire, expecting a report on his meeting with Tanya.

" _Emily left for the reservation."_

"Ohhhhh! Sam was right! He said she wouldn't last another week. She was having contractions when we were there."

" _I didn't know that,"_ he admits.

"Secret women's business," I state, as if I know something about pregnancy and childbirth.

" _Jesus, you women amaze me with how you handle this stuff. To me, the whole thing is terrifyin'."_

"I think if it's your own child, you must get used to the idea gradually. They did both seem eager for the birth to end the pregnancy."

" _That's true."_ He chuckles. _"But it all must be worth it since so many go back for a second one."_

"They'll be holding their baby for the first time soon. That has to be a defining moment in anyone's life," I respond, feeling dreamy.

We're both silent for a while as I imagine them meeting their child, then Edward says quietly, _"I can't wait to see this baby. I'm actually quite jealous."_

His open honesty is so endearing, it's infectious.

"I was jealous, too, the day you took me there. They have such a loving relationship, and it shows in the home they've created."

" _They're good role models. They both strive for happiness over wealth."_

"I like that."

" _So do I, but I also like to have somethin' in the bank."_

I laugh, agreeing it's comforting to have a little security.

" _Dad came down today and gave me a physical."_

"Oh, what did he say?"

" _I'm in pretty good shape, apparently. There are no signs of that neurological syndrome he was worried about, but I can't go near the baby for two more weeks, just as a precaution. I was expectin' it, but I_ am _disappointed."_

"I guess you have to take his advice."

" _Yeah, Sam and I will knock over the work in the next few days, and then she'll come home."_

"I love that you're making time to help them."

" _Hey, they're like family. They were there for me when I needed somewhere to live."_

That reminds me. "Have you seen Tanya yet?"

" _No, we're goin' to brunch tomorrow. I didn't want to just dump the CDs, say my piece, and leave. I don't need to act like an asshole."_

God, I can't believe I'm swooning over him caring for his ex-girlfriend, but that's how he is, and it makes me long to feel his arms around me.

" _Are you still there? You're not worried about Tanya, are you?"_

"No, I just…"

" _Tell me what's wrong."_

I have to sigh, but I control its sound, not wanting him to hear it. "Nothing. I feel happy just hearing your voice. I wish you weren't so far away."

" _We're gonna fix that, Bells."_

If only I had his confidence. "Do you really believe we will, Edward?"

" _Hell, I'm sure of it. The way I feel about you is tellin' me somethin'."_

And I melt, with the biggest, cheek-splitting smile spreading right across my face.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Edward sends me a text with a photo of a radiant Sam and Emily and their newborn. _"Are you awake?"_

I call him back, excited to hear the news. "What did they have?"

" _A girl! They had picked out the name Mia, then got talkin' about our trip to Mexico, and changed it to Maya."_

"Maya—do you have any details?"

" _Like what?"_

"Weight, length, how many hours she was in labor. Did she give birth at the reservation?"

" _I…shit, I'm not sure. Sam said eight pound somethin'."_

I giggle because he's adorable being a typical man, and he responds with a deep hearty laugh that ripples down to my toes.

"I wish I was there. I could go visit her today."

" _Why don't you stop wishin' and come live with me?"_

"Edward..." I have to swallow a lump in my throat. "You know I'm not ready."

" _Maybe not right away, but you_ are _comin' to me. I'm so sure, I might just buy that land at Red Lodge."_

Fearing he'll actually do it, my heart starts to pound. "Please don't do anything hasty."

" _Then give me another option. You and I both know we're not gonna live in Seattle, not when you said you never planned to bring up your kids there. Bella, I can wear a nice suit and look like I belong in a city. I can even appreciate a fine wine and a good espresso, but I'm a country boy at heart. I wanna wake up to mountains and trees, and I think you do, too, so why don't we stop dancin' around this subject?"_

This is the other side of his honesty and unflappable confidence. He just boldly declares what he wants. In Edward's world, obstacles fall by the wayside, barely slowing him down, but I believe Tyler gave me good advice. I do need to consider what _I_ want before I take a leap of faith. The last time, I made a monumental mistake that has resulted in me turning twenty-seven and having to start all over again.

"It's been two weeks, Edward. Can't you see this is crazy?"

" _I only think it's crazy to stay apart longer than we have to."_

I can't argue when I already wonder what would have happened if we'd had more time together. I went to him, seeking something more, and it only took a few days to know I had deep feelings for him.

"I did like the land at Red Lodge, but I don't know if I want to live in a cabin off the grid."

" _Cabin?"_ he questions with a laugh.

"You haven't hinted at what you're proposing."

" _I've learned a lot from Sam and Emily's project, and you'll hardly know we're off the grid."_

"Can I see the plans when you complete them?" I request, hoping it will buy me some time.

" _It's just a building."_ I wait for a second, hoping he'll explain. How can he be so confident we'll be together, yet unexcited about the house we'll share?

"But you're an architect. Isn't the house…?"

He interrupts. _"I want to be somebody's home—your home if you'll have me, whether we're at Red Lodge or someplace else. I want to be the number you call when you can't wait to share somethin' incredible, whether it's the sight of a proud animal, a breathtakin' sunrise, or the first snow on a mountain range. Home is where we'll recharge with a good book, a great album, a hike up a mountain, or a burst of creativity. It's where we'll grow vegetables for home cooked meals. Come to me for your best sleep in your own bed, and we'll make love all weekend if that's your desire."_

I don't respond when he'll hear the emotion in my voice and know there's a tear rolling down my cheek. He has just described the simple and happy future I've craved for years.

It's the life I knew in the home where I grew up. My parents were best friends, and even though they had different interests outside the family, they spent their time at home relaxing together or working toward making their house into a home. Dad built a vegetable garden for Mom just because she wanted one, and we reaped the benefits gathering her cucumbers, sweet tomatoes, strawberries, and many other vegetables. Mom entered a carrot or zucchini cake every year at the Clallam County Fair and always won a prize. Dad and I transferred her best pumpkins to the porch on Halloween and feasted on pies she made for Thanksgiving.

Jake wouldn't build me a vegetable patch, saying it was a waste of his time and mine. "You're at the grocery store anyway," he argued. "Why make extra work for yourself?" When I was away, he forgot to water the tomatoes I tried to grow in pots, and couldn't understand why the sight of their shriveled leaves and flowers upset me so much.

He didn't get it, didn't get me, and yet Edward has found a way inside my head, knowing things I've never told him, offering me a life that _would_ make me happy.

" _What are you thinkin', Bells?"_

"I'm thinking that sounds like me, Edward."

" _Then you just keep thinkin' that way, and we'll come home to each other on Friday night. Do you want me to call and tell you what happened with Tanya?"_

"Not really. I mean, I wouldn't say no to hearing your voice again, but I still have a lot to do here and an early start in the morning. Why don't I call home tomorrow when I see something incredible?"

" _Oh, Bella, I love you. Please take care of yourself."_

"I'm in good hands, Edward. I trust Peter with my life."

" _Okay then, tomorrow."_

After he hangs up, I stare at the phone and burst into tears as I contemplate five more days without him. How did I ever think I could hold out until the wedding?

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_

 _ **Over the next few weeks, we have family staying with us, so I'm going to have to abandon this writing caper and entertain them in my spare time. Please bear with me. I will be back as soon as I can.**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Thank you for your patience while I had the luxury of enjoying all my family together. I wish my eldest boy and his girl lived in our city, but I'm very grateful he brought her home to stay with us. Why is it that when you're not writing, plot bunnies hop in and fill the space? Do I have time to write this, enter a contest, and submit something for the Babies on the Border Compilation? Maybe. You might have to be patient again in the near future.**_

 _ **The Harvestward Team have been magnificent - Ipsita, Nic,**_ ** _VampyreGirl86, and_** _ **SarcasticBimbo have all had their turn at polishing my words, and I thank them for every minute they've given me.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 21**_

The Sunrise Ranger Station is deserted when I arrive, and the Visitor Center is closed for the season, so it's quiet. I'm here early, but getting out of the city before dawn put me ahead of the traffic, and the sight of a misty Mount Rainier has greatly improved my mood. I'm now looking forward to this distraction and seeing Peter again.

When no one shows, I call Peter's number, and the beeps indicate he's out of range, so all I can do is wait. Sending Garrett a text, I tell him I've sent the Masen's Whiskey photos to the agency, and that he can forget the gift I brought him from Mexico if he reacts to any more demands from James. I sign off by saying I'll check in later in the week.

A honking horn makes me look up at a minivan approaching, and I turn my head to see if the honk is for someone else. I can't imagine Peter driving anything other than his Toyota Sequoia, but he could be in a park vehicle for all I know. It's not like we need a four-wheel drive for this trip.

The van pulls up in front of me. I watch a man take off his sunglasses before he gets out, and amazingly, I know him. Mike Newton is standing in front of me, ten years older and twenty pounds heavier.

"Mike!" The awkward embrace is like every interaction we had when I worked in his father's camping store.

"You got tall," he remarks, looking me over.

I've grown one inch since I left high school, so I ignore the observation. "What are you doing here?"

With a grin, he responds, "I'm your guide."

The three words don't really add up to an answer. "Huh?"

"I got a call, asking if I could take a last minute job. I assumed you knew I was coming."

"What do you mean? I booked this weeks ago."

"I don't know what happened, but the other guide is no longer available."

I look past him, angry no one called me, because I haven't prepared as I normally would. Without knowing this eastern side of Mount Rainier, I came here expecting Peter to show me around.

" _Are_ you a guide?" I ask, not wanting to sound rude, but I have no idea how Mike is qualified.

"I'm not a ranger, but I've attended the guided tours they run. Dad is not retiring anytime soon, and the business can't afford both of us, so I've started a small tour company. I take people on trips to the highlights of Olympic and Rainier, and offer a discount on camping gear if they want to explore further."

I stare at his minivan and try not to sigh. There are so many of these tour companies, offering trips from Seattle accompanied by naturalists and ex-rangers, that I wonder how he will stand out and compete. Mike left Forks to study business, but I know only too well the future can change, so I admire him for trying something different.

"Well, Mr. Tour Guide, where are you taking me?"

"I thought we'd set up camp at White River and then hike back."

 _Okay, maybe this is not such a good idea after all._

"I have a wilderness camping permit, Mike. I like to keep my stuff with me."

Suddenly, two deep frown lines appear between his eyebrows. "Then...where do we shower?"

"We don't."

It's like he can't process. He stares at me, dazed for a minute, and then has to confirm, "For days?"

"Yeah, we'll stink like we did on our senior trip. Remember?" The poor man rubs his eyes, as if he's hoping to wake up from a dream, and I decide to give him a chance to back out now. I am not wasting precious hours hiking back and forth to the White River Campground. "I can go on my own. I've done it before."

"I'm not completely useless, Bella." His body language tells me I've hit a nerve.

"I didn't say you were." As the words spill out of my mouth, I remember. I _did_ call him useless one day in the store, shoving him aside and telling him to go serve a customer when he was struggling to unpack an order. His raised eyebrows and expectant eyes suggest he remembers, too, but I'm not going to apologize for something I did more than ten years ago when he knows perfectly well he never pulled his weight in the store.

He blows out a lungful of air. "Okay, well I need to lighten up this pack if we're hiking."

Flattering him about his brand new backpack gets me a look inside. Over small talk about his family, the business, and who he has kept in contact with, I persuade him to remove half of what he's brought. Most of his clothes go immediately, but he won't ditch the heavy boots he's wearing, insisting he needs them for ankle support. He has plenty of dried food and some very cool camping accessories, and I allow those that amuse him the most. When he proudly declares his tent weighs only eight pounds, I act impressed, not mentioning mine is just three.

He generally takes advice well and says he wants to learn from my experience. I like his positive attitude, but I wonder if he'll change by the end of this trip. Without understanding the reasons, he's already struggling with practices we adopt when camping in a wilderness. An argument erupts over removing his deodorant, even though I explain these sweet scents attract curious animals who believe they are food. He thinks I'm joking when I confess I haven't worn perfume for years, and I think _he's_ joking when he admits he has never hung a bear bag overnight.

I decide to leave the wider subject of bears until later.

We study the map he's brought, and he suggests we start with an easy hike to Dege Peak, but his lack of knowledge about the other trails concerns me. At least he doesn't mind me asking if we can take a look at the Sunrise Day Lodge before we get going. Twenty minutes later, I have the information I need, and we're on our way.

The first section of the climb is pretty and green, a classic sub-alpine terrain, but the Sourdough Ridge Trail soon becomes dusty and dry. Frozen Lake is not frozen. At this time of the year, it resembles a pond at the base of a massive rock quarry, and doesn't inspire me to record it. There are plenty of photographers who will come back when it's at its best, so we continue on to the Wonderland Trail toward Skyscraper.

With the grandeur of Rainier next to me, I feel in my bones I will take an outstanding photo one day. I'll get lucky and discover something I didn't see when I took the photo, a different subject in sharp focus, or a filter that disturbs the reality of the image and takes it into the extraordinary.

On this trip, my aim is to have every shot I submit included in a National Park's publication, and hopefully, keep one or two for myself. Thrilled to receive an honorable mention in last year's National Park Photo Contest, I missed out on a spot in the calendar for 2016, the hundred year anniversary of the NPS. They were selling them everywhere, and my image would have displayed for a whole month in thousands of homes and businesses across America.

The publicity for the centenary has put next year's calendar on everyone's radar, and now there are more professional and amateur photographers hiring guides, waiting for ideal conditions, experimenting with camera settings, and releasing the shutter at the perfect moment.

Mountain goats and marmots accompany us through the tundra landscape, and I stop to shoot a marmot, standing on a pile of stones, grooming itself. It turns to face me and places a paw on its chest, like it's suddenly embarrassed, and I get a dozen shots before I burst into laughter and it scampers away. Amazed, I look at Mike, who is lowering his phone and chuckling along with me.

Finding the contact I've now changed to HOME, I call Edward. _"Hey, Baby,"_ he greets me, like we just said goodbye this morning.

"I've just had one of those moments where an animal cracked me up and it's so beautiful here I had to share."

" _Where are you? I want to bring it up on the map."_

"We're between Sunrise and Skyscraper Mountain. Mount Rainier is really spectacular up close."

" _Yeah, mountains are awesome. Will you send me a photo?"_

"Sure, I'll take one as soon as I hang up."

" _That way I get to share your incredible experiences. Even a text with an image will make my day."_

 _I love him._

"I'll send you so many photos you'll get sick of me."

" _Bring it on, girl,"_ he responds. _"Let me see your world."_

"Okay. If you don't hear from me, I might be out of range. It does seem like there's plenty of signal up here, though."

" _I'll be waitin'."_

Holding the phone up, I decide on a whim to take a selfie and send it to Edward. He replies right away with a single word, "BEAUTIFUL!" and I'm grinning when Mike approaches me.

"Who is on the other end of that phone?" he asks.

I don't see a need to share Edward with Mike Newton. "A friend."

"You know I split up with Jess?" Shaking my head, I had wondered why he didn't mention her before. Mom told me they were getting married over a year ago, thinking I'd be interested, but I haven't really thought about either of them a long time. "She broke off the engagement and moved to Sequim."

I'm actually glad he escaped a marriage to that toxic bitch. She was never my friend. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mike."

"I heard you and Jake got divorced. Maybe we can catch up when I'm in Seattle."

 _Shit._

I hate that my first reaction is to fabricate an excuse, but that's how I always was with Mike.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I'll be living in Seattle for much longer." Putting my phone away, I reach into my pack. "How about an apple? I like to eat my heavy food before I break out the dried stuff."

"Sure." He takes the apple from me, throws it in the air and catches it. "Where will you go?"

"I'm considering Montana."

He snorts. "Montana is full of cowboys and indians."

The narrow-minded comment makes me defend a decision I haven't even made. "It wasn't like that at all. I've just come back from Billings, and Yellowstone was amazing."

"I think you got your states mixed up, Bella. Yellowstone is in Wyoming."

 _Ugh. He always did speak first and think later. As a teenager, we tolerated it, expecting he'd learn, but Mike is still just as immature and thoughtless at twenty-seven._

He finishes his apple and is about to toss the core away when I stop him. "Don't throw that!"

"It's just an apple core. Don't goats eat everything?"

I get out a Ziploc bag and he drops the core inside, then I take a breath and try not to sound like I'm giving a lecture. "This is their natural habitat. If we encourage wild animals to associate humans with their source of food, they lose the ability to find their own. Then they become aggressive when they're hungry, and people get hurt. The less contact we have, the better."

He raises his eyebrows as if I've surprised him. "Yes, ma'am."

He still acts like a child. "Mike, you have to look after your customers' safety."

"Oh, I only take them up to the closest lookout and back. It doesn't take that long."

"Mike!" I glare, angry at his cavalier attitude.

"All right. All right. I understand."

As we get closer to Skyscraper, Mike's breathing becomes labored, and he leans down with his hands on his knees. "How high are we?"

"Sunrise is 6,000 feet and Skyscraper is 7,000, so somewhere in between."

"I'm so out of condition."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Anything above 5,000 feet is considered high altitude, and oxygen is reduced. It's not that much further."

"How much higher is Mount Rainier?"

I look at him and scowl. Surely he must know this when he's bringing paying customers here, or is it that he can't do simple math? I count to ten, like I have many times when someone asked a stupid question. However, I need to keep him talking and make ourselves known, especially when I'm seeing the amount of blueberries and huckleberries, sweet at this time of the year and candy to bears. I doubt we'll see one, but Mike doesn't need to know we're in an area where they could be around.

"Rainier is the highest mountain in Washington State at 14,000 feet. Did you know people practice here for the climb to Everest base camp?"

"Are we in the dead zone?"

A vision of Edward choking his obstinate client jumps into my head, and I find it strangely calming.

"No, the death zone is above 26,000 feet."

"How do you remember this stuff?

"I'm interested in it, Mike. Somehow it sticks."

"You know, I wasn't surprised you became a ranger. You were made for that job."

"It's all Dad. He trained me when I was a kid."

"How _is_ the chief? I haven't seen him in a while."

"He's good. I don't think he's going to retire anytime soon, either."

"How often do you go back?"

"Never."

Mike stops in his tracks and echoes my answer, "Never?"

"I haven't been back since the trial."

"Why?" He stands where he is, waiting for an answer.

I turn around and stare at him. "Someone killed our dog, Mike, the same way he killed the bear. I was terrified it would be me or my family next."

"I heard he got his union thugs from the port to scare you and that they killed your dog out of spite."

"Where did you hear that?"

"I can't remember. You know how small-town gossip goes. He murdered his best friend because was he was screwing his wife, but you already knew that, right?"

"Yeah, but they never proved it." I clearly remember the day the defense called the woman who testified she was his girlfriend, effectively blowing their chance of proving motive. "At least she never got a cent from the national parks."

"Everyone thought you showed real guts going in to bat for the bear. If the outcome of the trial was that a black bear tore a man to shreds, they would have shut down the park until they could prove it was safe, and how long would that have taken? Everyone who kept their jobs respected you for what you did."

"Is that true?" After the isolation of living for weeks at the reservation and then the panic of getting away, I never thought to ask for anyone's approval.

"Of course it is. If you want to go back, I'm happy to take you."

"Maybe I will think about it." I can't say I've already decided to do just that, but I don't care if Mike thinks he's the reason for my return. I really do hope that when I get there, I feel like I should have come back sooner. "Come on, let's keep moving."

The summit of Skyscraper Mountain is a 360-degree panorama of the Cascade Mountains, and it's just beautiful seeing Rainier and its glaciers on one side and the never-ending ridges and valleys on the other. Trying to identify the individual peaks, we abandon the map when it rips down the center in a gust of wind, and I revert to using Google Maps on my phone.

"Bella, doesn't that suck the juice out of your phone?"

"I have a solar charger, Mike. Don't worry about it."

"Be prepared, huh?"

"I'm sorry?"

He scratches his head. "Isn't that the motto of the rangers?"

"No, I think that one is the scouts."

God, he's tiresome. I turn back to the vista and note that we're currently at the same level as a highway of cumulus clouds coming in from the northwest. With a bit of luck, the wind will shift slightly and some of them will bump into Rainier and dance around the mountain, or form the sea of clouds I'm after. I check my phone and smile when I find the weather forecast is still showing cool and dry. There could be a sunset waiting for me here. Looking over at the fire lookout at Mount Fremont, I know there's also a sunrise I can capture from this peak, and it's an easy walk to Burroughs to get up close to Rainier.

I call out to Mike. "Let's go. It's time to set up camp."

Coming down the hill, we stop at a stream of water cascading from a bank of rocks. Before I've even taken my filter bag from my pack, Mike has filled his bottle, raising it to his lips.

"No!" I scream at him.

"What's wrong? Isn't this clean mountain water?"

"We have to filter it first."

He looks down and shakes his head slowly. "Looks like I know jack about communing with nature."

 _True words._

"You'll be fine. Just ask me first, okay?"

When he looks back up, he's obviously humiliated, and I feel sorry for him.

Back down in the meadows, there are narrow trails off to the right, leading to trees, and Mike goes along with my suggestion for a spot to pitch the tents. When I hang the filter bag from a low branch, he watches, amazed at how quickly it produces a liter of drinking water. Both tents go up quickly and I tell him to organize everything for the evening, saying we'll probably return in the dark.

He gives me a weird look. "I need to do something first." Standing and staring at me, he suddenly looks uncomfortable.

"What do you need to do?"

He glances around before answering. "Toilet."

"Oh. Do you want the rules?"

Poor Mike closes his eyes as if this is mortifying for him, and then opens them and nods. This is not the first time I've had to run through this procedure, and I'm glad he's not attempting it initially in the dark. I hand him a bag, a roll of toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

"One: Do your business at least 200 feet from a water source. Two: There's a shovel in the bag. Dig a hole a foot deep and when you're done, the toilet paper goes in as well. Three: use the hand sanitizer. Four: After your hands are clean, use the shovel to fill in the hole with the dirt you originally removed." I hate number four, but there have been two occasions now where the camper in question didn't quite understand the concept of burying and left the hole open, thinking they would reuse it. "Five: Put the shovel back in the bag and don't leave anything behind. Got it?"

"I thought you said we couldn't use anything with fragrance."

"The sanitizer? It's unscented, and some things are essential, Mike. I have unscented baby wipes, too."

"Do we bury them as well?"

"No, we place them in a Ziploc bag and take them with us."

"I think I've lost the urge to go now."

"You want to wait until it's dark?" His eyes grow wide and he glares at me before walking away. "Don't go too far!" I call out after him.

"Okay. Okay, General."

I laugh out loud, making our presence known without scaring him. After a few minutes, I sing out. "Are you okay over there?"

"Yes," he grumbles.

"I'll let you in on a secret! The less you eat on these trips, the less you need to do what you're doing!"

"I've had one apple all day!"

"Just sayin'!"

"Will you leave me alone now?" I crack up, not having to force the laughter this time.

When Mike reappears, the very thing I was avoiding _does_ happen. In the clearing behind him, a black bear comes into view. It stands on its hind legs to observe us, and I put my hands in the air to make myself look big. I see the frown on Mike's face, so I bend to each side and call out that I'm stretching. The bear drops down and ambles away, but I keep exercising to release the sudden tension in my body. It's not that the bear worried me so much, but I'm now very aware I have someone I'm responsible for, and I haven't had to be that person in a while.

While I stay on alert, there are no more bear sightings over dinner, and I give Mike some baby wipes to freshen up. We even manage to hang the bear bag up high in a tree without me wanting to throttle him.

When we reach the peak again, I gasp, and every annoyance of this day is completely forgotten, replaced by a feeling of sheer luck. The thick clouds I anticipated are nowhere in sight, but the base of the mountain is shrouded in a mist that seems to have its own life. The wind is swirling slowly around Rainier, moving the air and its contents like a merry-go-round. Finger-like shapes curl and point to the sky and then close up again in front of me.

However, it's not only this mist that has my pulse racing. The edges of the mountain are glowing from the setting sun behind it, and it looks like someone painted all the ridges with liquid gold. While it lasts, I take picture after picture, and get one on my phone for Edward.

As the sun sinks lower, I can see the shadow of the mountain on the eastern terrain and I take even more photos, finally descending the hill full of joy.

"Look at the stars, Bella," Mike remarks, slowing his steps. Even though it's not completely dark, the sky is putting on a show for us. "This is a special place."

"Yeah, it is special." It makes me happy to see his face, in awe of something he took for granted this morning. This has been a good day after all, even without Peter at my side.

I send the pic to Edward with just a few words. "Lucky this evening. Mount Rainier was glowing."

About an hour later, I'm already in my sleeping bag when he calls back. _"Oh, my, God, Bella, I can't stop lookin' at the photo. It's sublime."_

"And that's just on the phone. Wait until you see what I get from the camera. It was glorious."

" _Congratulations, Bella!"_

" _That was Sam. He's pretty impressed, says he wants one for Maya's room."_

"Tell him congratulations from me."

" _Okay, you're on speaker."_

"Congratulations, Sam. How is she?"

" _Emily or Maya?" he asks, chuckling._

"Both."

" _Well, Emily's okay. She had a sleep this morning, and I had Maya to myself for a few hours. I'm sure she was looking at me and thinking how handsome I am."_

I can't help grinning. "I'll bet she was. Does she cry much?"

" _No, she's been quiet so far, but they told me it won't last."_

"I'm so happy for you both."

" _Hey, Emily wants me to hire you to take photos of Maya when you're next in Billings."_

"Absolutely. I would be honored."

" _The way you captured Emily just before Maya was born was…shit…I'm getting emotional."_

After a minute's silence, Edward speaks softly. _"He's gone down the hallway, Bella. I think havin' a baby was a roller coaster for him as well."_

I start to tear up. "I'm sure it was, and it takes a strong man to admit those kinds of feelings."

" _I think you're right, Bells. He is strong."_

"I'll call you in the morning with another photo, hopefully. I have a really good feeling about this trip now."

" _Sure, we're gonna do another hour and then I'll go home and hit the hay myself. Maybe I might look at some of our photos first."_

"Did you download them?"

" _Uh, huh. Every single one. I like seeing you wearin' nothin' but my kisses. It's come to my attention that you have quite beautiful..."_

"I think you had better stop this right now."

He chuckles. _"Well, I am lookin' forward to Friday night."_

I close my eyes and imagine him in my bed in Seattle. "Me too, mister, but we'll talk tomorrow."

" _Okay, goodnight, gorgeous."_

"Goodnight."

* * *

I wake to the sound of birds, and a sky turning blue. Mike is snoring, so I bolt up the hill, chasing my sunrise. The bank of clouds I was after is everywhere, but Rainier is cloaked in thick fog. Pointing the camera at the fire lookout at Mount Fremont, I hope that one of the photos will communicate how lonely it looks, perched up high on its own.

Yesterday morning when I drove in, the place was shrouded in fog. The weather conditions haven't changed that much, except it's a little colder, so I'm counting on the sun to burn the fog away, long before the cloud bank dissipates. After I capture the sunrise and the way it changes my earlier shots, I decide to head down to Burroughs and wait where the mountain will dominate the photo. I can always come back here tomorrow if it doesn't work out.

The great thing about these trails north of Sunrise is that everything is close. If you want, you can easily cover an entire loop in a single day, or meander, detouring in any direction. There is a lot of diversity here for a photographer, too. Without having to punish your body, you can climb a thousand feet for a complete change of perspective.

I have to wake Mike when I arrive at our camp, and he comes out of his tent and stretches, saying he slept very well. We take down the bear bag and have oats for breakfast, adding the handful of blueberries I picked on the way down earlier. They are juicy and sweet, so I'm not surprised I saw the bear yesterday.

Mike might grumble about it, but he can dismantle a tent and get packed up fast, so it's still early when we reach the first of the Burroughs peaks. The air around the mountain is already clearing, and the finger-like clouds are changing, coalescing into a ring. I tell Mike we're going to wait here for a while and he starts to whine, pulling on a woolen cap, wanting to know why we have to stand here in the cold.

In a huff, I take out my solar panel, weighing it down with rocks before plugging in my phone and a camera battery charger.

Yes, it is cold, but I draw his attention to the most magnificent freezer he's ever seen, right in front of him. He adds a hoodie to his layers but continues to complain, telling me his phone charger didn't work last night.

Sick of his bellyaching, I tell him to take out my camera charger and plug in his phone.

For some reason, known only to him, he picks up the solar panel and the rocks tumble to the ground. When it flaps in the wind, I realize instantly I should have monitored him, or given him precise instructions.

 _One of us is a fucking idiot._

"Fold it up!" I scream and run toward him. He ignores the flapping, and the moment he connects his phone, the whole thing is torn from his grasp and takes to the sky like a wing, soaring above us.

"Holy shit," he says, comprehending what he's done.

I stand at the edge and watch it climb in the air currents before slowly descending on the other side of White River, miles from here. From what I see, both phones are still attached when it drops into the forest, far far away.

 _ **Thanks for reading xo**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Well, it's clear you all can't stand Mike Newton, but you're going to have to put up with another chapter with him.**_

 _ **After that, I'm going to ask for your patience again because I can't get those kids taken from their parents at the Mexico border out of my head, and I do want to contribute something to the compilation. Search facebook for**_ ** _babies at the border fiction compilation and read the pinned post. There are a stack of people getting involved in this very worthy cause and it's only a $10 donation to receive the whole compilation._**

 _ **Big thank you's to Ipsita, Nic,**_ ** _VampyreGirl86, and_** _ **SarcasticBimbo for all the help you've given me with this story.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 22**_

At first, I can't speak, disbelieving what just happened _did_ happen, and then I feel sick. My phone is not locked. All it takes is a swipe to open, and there is no security on Google Drive. It's only a backup, but it includes images I don't currently own, contracted out for a period of time. Under the circumstances, I doubt I'd face prosecution for a copyright infringement.

The reason my stomach is churning is the folder I uploaded just days ago containing images of myself and Edward.

Edward or Garrett could delete the contents of the folder, but even if I find someone who will lend me their phone, I never take notice of numbers I call. I don't even know anyone who does.

 _I have to find that phone._

"Say something, Bella," Mike pleads as he rips off his cap and screws it up in his hands.

"What do you want me to say?" I respond, refusing to show the panic inside me.

 _He cannot know about this._

"I don't know—that I'm a stupid inconvenience who just lost our phones?"

It's such a strange choice of word, I wonder if someone has used it against him before, but he doesn't need me sticking the knife in. People learn best from the mistakes they make, and I have to accept some of the blame for this one.

"Our phones are down there waiting for us to find them."

He stares at the place they touched down and shakes his head.

"You know they're gone already. Someone will steal them before we can make it."

 _I'm not ready to accept that._

"It's a Tuesday, late in the season, and we haven't seen anyone else so far today. It will take a while for people to cover that distance on foot, so we might get lucky."

I can see from his expression that he thinks the task is insurmountable, but the prospect of those pictures in someone else's hands is unthinkable. Zipping the battery charger into the side pocket, I lift my pack onto my shoulders. "I'm going down there, with or without you."

"Do you want me to get the map?"

It takes every bit of strength I have not to roll my eyes because the guy isn't learning. "Not in this wind, Mike."

He rolls his own eyes. "Okay, which way?"

Yesterday, I looked at the trails on the phone I am going to retrieve. "We have to head west to pick up the trail down to the river."

"But...what about your photos, Bella?"

"I don't have to shut my eyes. If I see something on the way, I'll stop, and we can always come back up."

He sticks out his tongue at the thought of another climb, but he soon concedes, lifting his pack. "If anyone can do this, you can."

The trail becomes steeper, hugging the northern side of the ridge, which gives us some relief from the wind. Without it, my mind drifts to Edward waiting for the photo I promised him this morning. The phone could be ringing right now, advertising itself.

I don't realize how much I've picked up my pace until I hear a tiny voice calling my name. "Bella, wait up!" Mike is way behind me, catching his breath. Groaning, I just want to get this over with and forget it ever happened.

"Come on! We're nearly there!" I'm not even breathing hard, so I keep going, turning every so often to keep him in sight. The thickening mist shows we're climbing into the clouds.

 _Just a little higher. Please let us find a place above the clouds. Mike won't be able to climb any further, and I can't leave him behind._

My prayer is answered when the trail flattens out and I'm bathed in the warmth of the sun. Before me, a bank of white cloud cradles the mountain. It looks so thick I could walk right across it to Rainier. Under a blue sky, the peak of Burroughs One is even closer to the mountain. Covered in patches of ice, it's deceptively far away, but it adds a gray and rocky point of perspective.

I move around quickly, taking photos, and find that up close, the clouds are moving and transparent, not a magical floating platform made of cotton balls after all.

With a sense of loss, I accept that I'll never know how this looked from the final Burroughs peak today. It's another shot for another day. The signpost says this is where we descend for Glacier Basin, and that means the White River. It's not a complete loss. I'm happy some of the shots I've taken will be good enough to submit.

Mike is sitting on a rock with his pack by his side when I ask if he wants an apple.

"It's downhill from here, right, 2.8 miles?"

"I can't guarantee it's all downhill, Mike, but that distance is to Glacier. We're not going that far today."

I tell him to drink some water before we descend, and this time, he puts his apple core in the Ziploc bag without me asking.

 _Baby steps._

The trail drops quickly over the last of the tundra and rocks, then traverses through forest, making the hike long and tiresome. Having to listen to Mike's break-up story and a succession of failed dates makes me yearn to climb again so he's out of breath. We take a short side trail to a clearing, and with the river in sight, the forest beyond looks big enough to swallow two phones and a solar panel forever.

"That's a lot of trees, Bella. We'll never find those phones."

I ignore his negativity when we're just getting started. "I saw where they went down."

"Why don't we get out of here and have the SIM cards locked?"

It's an option, but plan B for someone as stubborn as me. "And give up just like that without even trying?"

"It looks like a waste of time from here."

"That phone cost me six hundred bucks."

"Didn't you take out insurance?" he asks with a smug look on his face.

"Yes I did." _You prick._ "For theft, loss and accidental damage. It doesn't cover this kind of negligence." I just let that settle in and try not to glare. I'm pretty sure they would replace the phone, but I'd still have to pay the deductible. "Look, Mike, if you want to go back, I can't stop you." I watch him consider it, looking around for something to help him make the decision. "I'll be fine, honestly."

"I guess it is my fault we're here."

 _There is that. Better he said it than me._

Sighing, I give him a forced smile. I'd love nothing more than to part ways, but I know I'll worry he won't reach his car in one piece. Looking at what's facing me, I count the rows of trees so I have something to work with on the ground. If nothing comes of the search, I'll cut the trip short, cancel the phone, and drive back to get ready for Edward's arrival.

When we finally hit the Glacier Trail, a cyclist buzzes by at full speed. "Stupid idiot!" Mike says at the top of his voice and the guy gives him the finger.

"Come on," I urge when he stands there seething. "We have to cross the river."

The White River is full of glacial silt, milky and shallow with rapids running over a rubble of stones. While I'm capturing this different view of Rainier, Mike decides to cross on his own and, sure enough, he slips and falls in, soaking his boots and wetting his pack. I cross over myself without incident and wait.

"Don't look at me like that," he pleads as he walks up to me, dripping everywhere, but I didn't look at him any way because I was careful not to. As he passes me, he adds, "I don't know why I ever thought I could be a guide. I _am_ fucking useless."

 _Without me saying a word, he's coming to that conclusion just fine on his own._

He sits on the grass above the riverbank, struggling to remove his boots, and I grab my camera, feeling the need to be free of him for a while. "Pitch your tent and start drying your stuff out. I'm going up the hill to take a look."

"Yes, boss," he says, way too sarcastically for someone I've been very patient with.

"And, Mike, if you see a bear, do not run and don't act scared. Clap your hands a few times above your head and it will go away. Remember, they are naturally fearful and wary of humans, so if it's close, it probably didn't know you were around. Make noise, sing, talk to yourself until I come back."

He rolls his eyes as if he's not taking me seriously, out here in the fucking wilderness without a clue what he's doing, and I can't help my evil side rearing its head.

"I guess you've read the advice about wearing bells and carrying pepper spray, but I've seen plenty of bear scat. The black bear version contains berries and squirrel fur. Grizzly bear shit is full of bells and smells like pepper."

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles, scouring the ground nervously.

I have to hold in the laughter when he doesn't get the joke. It's unlikely he'll see a bear anywhere near here with the glut of berries above in the meadows. Even so, he must hear the full warning. "If one attacks, you fight for your life."

"Against a bear." He looks at me as if I'm crazy.

"Trust me. They're not killers," I reply seriously.

"Just go, will ya. I'll be fine."

He _will_ be fine, but I want him to think while I'm away. He musn't attempt anything like this again until he's fit and properly trained. At the moment, he has just enough knowledge to get into serious trouble, and as I climb the hill, counting off the biggest trees, I tell myself I could be saving someone's life giving Mike this little trip into the great outdoors.

"Forty," I say to myself, satisfied I'm in the vicinity, but the height of the trees isn't helping. It's dark and I'm looking for three even darker items in the gloom. The air is fantastic and I let it assault me, seeping deep into my lungs. Being here makes me wonder what it was like for my grandfather, working in forests where trees were once monstrous and eternal.

From the west, beams of sunlight penetrate all the way to the ground and I'm drawn to the sight, taking photos before resuming the search. This forest is extremely beautiful but it's not a place where many people would come. There are no established trails and the forest floor is a trap, laden with enormous roots and fallen branches, covered in moss.

However, since I'm searching the ground and aware of the danger, the sunlight is both a gift and a warning. Next time I come up, I'll be wearing my headlamp.

Completing the first grid without success, I head back down to see if Mike has survived. I can hear him singing with gusto.

 _I'm looking to the sky to save me  
Looking for a sign of life  
Looking for something help me burn out bright  
I'm looking for a complication  
Looking 'cause I'm tired of trying  
Make my way back home  
When I learn to fly_

"You getting your Dave Grohl fix?"

He startles and stands. "Jesus, Bella. You couldn't call out before you snuck up on me?"

Looking around, I note he's in the same spot where I left him, and his pack is still unopened. I unzip it and pull out his sleeping bag, which thankfully feels dry. "I was enjoying it."

"That really goes against the grain, drawing attention to yourself like that."

Handing him his tent, I respond. "I know, and that's why I had to tell you."

 _And I wanted you to squirm a little._

For a second, I consider telling him about the bear that came by, but decide against it when the chance of us seeing two bears in one trip is close to zero.

"No luck?"

"No, and it's dangerous up there with lots of obstacles to trip over. We need to wear headlamps and keep our eyes on the ground."

"Are we going back up there now?"

"It's too late, Mike. We need to set up and eat before dark."

Nodding, he doesn't utter a word while he gets organized and blows up his air pad. Ready before I am, he crouches down and stares at the river.

"It's just birds and running water."

I look up and see the color leaking out of the view. "Yeah, I love the serenity at this time of the day." When he looks like he's staying put, I get the camera and take a few snaps of him enjoying this as he should.

Mike is falling asleep as I'm finishing my dinner, so I tell him to go to bed. He perks up enough to help me clean up and tie the bear bag in a tree, but turns in for the night straight after. I'm just about to turn in myself when I hear a sound that makes my spirits soar. Running to the edge of the forest, I listen, thinking I've imagined it, but it _is_ the sound of my phone ringing up there somewhere, and if it wasn't almost dark, I'd be on my way now to find it. The best thing is it's still here and not with someone else.

Sliding into my sleeping bag, I know it's probably Edward calling, worried I'm not picking up my phone. When I hear the lonely sound of it ringing again, tears fill my eyes. I just pray the phone has enough charge if he tries tomorrow.

* * *

We hear a sound mid-morning, not a ring, but the ping of an incoming message.

"Over there," Mike calls out, already exhausted from me urging him out of bed at dawn and making him search on an empty stomach.

"Or this way," I reply, knowing sound can be distorted in forests like this. I need something longer and piercing, like my ringtone, but all we get is that one ping.

A couple of hours later, we take a break and come back down for food. Neither of us speaks while we boil water, and eat in silence. It's obvious that our levels of frustration are running high.

Climbing the hill again, we're almost at the same spot we heard the ping when we hear another one, and this time we both look up.

"It's in the trees," I whisper, knowing this makes the search more complicated and dangerous. We have to look up now while keeping track of where we take our next step. "Slow down and concentrate on your feet. You are not getting injured up here."

By the afternoon, I'm lying down, using my headlamp as a flashlight. With a neck so sore I can hardly move it, each time I go on to search the next hundred square feet of canopy, I have to stretch it back into position.

"Anything?" Mike walks up to me, also stretching his neck.

"Not yet."

"What if we _do_ find them? How the hell do we get up there?"

"I'll climb up. I have a harness and..."

"Forget that shit. You'll get killed."

"No I won't! I've been climbing trees for years. You sell climbing gear in your store. Did you never try it out?"

"No way—never wanted to."

Getting up, I feel sorry for him, remembering how he and his friends used to live for Playstation. He's probably never seen the beauty of the backcountry in the Olympic National Park. It's not really his fault, I suppose, with a father who was working seven days a week. I was lucky my dad took the time to show me another world away from television and consoles and boys.

"I'm going up the ridge to see if they're visible from the top. Can you stay and keep looking?"

"Sure. What else have I got to do?"

"Exactly." I bristle slightly at the tone in his voice. He caused this and he chose to stay when I gave him the opportunity to leave. He can damn well keep looking and work for the money I paid for a guide.

Guide—what a joke. This trip would have been completely different if Peter had been with me, and he had better have a good excuse when I call him. I do worry something has happened with his family, and I'd bet money he doesn't have a clue who replaced him. Even though he knows I can look after myself, he would never willingly leave me in the care of a tourist bus driver.

Breaking out into the afternoon sunlight, my heart starts to race, not from the climb, but from what I see to the west. Before me is something I've wanted to photograph. Under an indigo sky, a cloud sits on the very top of Mount Rainier, like a hat with a wispy flourish at the top, almost like a feather. I'm giggling, fumbling with the lens cap so I can get the camera to my eyes before I miss the moment, and I take twenty shots before it changes shape and then moves away.

"How lucky am I?" I call to the trees below, knowing I now have enough shots to submit, and a killer image I can keep for myself. "I'm on a roll, you bitches. Now show me my phone."

But they don't give up my phone. From up here I can see the top of the forest, and my moment of joy is trampled by the fact that there's a solar panel stuck somewhere in the thick tangle of branches.

"How lucky am I," I repeat wistfully and go back to the search.

By the time we give up for the day, I've accepted it's beaten me and we _are_ wasting our time. Mike asks how long it's been since we heard that last ping, and I'm sure the battery is flat. The solar panel must be lodged so securely it's not going to fall in the time it will take to cancel the SIM. At least I don't have to worry anymore.

Over a somber meal, Mike offers, "I'll pay to replace your phone."

Thinking about money reminds me of what's on the camera, and I jump up to retrieve it from the tent. "I forgot to show you! I took the most incredible shot today."

His face lights up as he scrolls through the images, and then he frowns. "What is that?" he asks, handing me the camera. It's a shot I took yesterday afternoon with the sun in the forest. At the time, I didn't take much notice, but now I zoom in and then stare at him.

"It must be only visible when the sun is at that angle. I didn't see it."

"I've looked at that fucking forest all day, and neither did I. Can you find it again?" he asks.

"Yeah, I know exactly where it is." Sighing, I look up at the darkening sky and feel pain shoot up my neck. "We've only got half an hour of daylight left. What are you doing for breakfast?"

* * *

"How high is it?" Mike asks on my third attempt to throw the sinker and leader line over the branch.

"I don't know, about forty feet or so? Ah, there we go." I smile, watching gravity do the job for me. "Beautiful," I say as soon as I have that sweet little piece of brass in my hand. We've been through this same process each night with the bear bag, but Mike is suddenly worried when I'm stepping into a harness.

"Are you sure about this? The chief will kill me if anything happens to you."

"Do you honestly think I'd give up now?" All I want is to call Edward and explain. I hate to think how he's interpreting my silence. This is exactly what used to drive me insane about Jake.

Tying knots and locking ropes through the carabineers is second nature. Getting the pulley in position takes no time, so I'm in the air with my feet on the trunk before Mike has a chance to talk me out of it. It's a slow laborious process of pull and push to get up there, and I have to position the lanyard so I can maneuver myself as close as possible.

Just seeing the solar panel makes me happy. It was Mike's phone in the photo, still hanging on its cable. Mine is actually resting on top of the solar panel, pinned under a thick stem, and it's the first thing I release, breathing a sigh of relief as I ease it into my harness bag.

Inching the lanyard along makes the branch wobble a little, and I hold my breath until I retrieve Mike's phone. He cheers me on from below once it goes safely in the bag. Then I carefully dislodge the solar panel and fold it up, leaving the cables attached. Once I'm done, I just have to creep my way back to the main trunk, unlink the lanyard and release the pressure on the prusik knot to slide down.

"Christ, woman, you're amazing," Mike states with a grin from ear to ear.

Once I'm untied, the rope comes down quickly with a thud and I realize I'm rushing. I need to remember our safety instead of racing down the hill. Rolling up thirty-five meters of rope seems to take forever, and I snap when Mike tries to help me. He soon backs off and waits patiently while I go through the process I've done many times before.

"Okay, let's go, and be careful. We're not out of here until we get in our cars."

"We're leaving. We're leaving," he sings.

I'm not actually happy until I'm back at the tent, and the first thing I do is plug my phone into the charger and lie down. It's going to take at least ten more minutes before I can even try to power it on, and I feel like I'm crashing, having existed on nervous energy since I woke up.

My "guide" must sense my inability to function, because he brings me a coffee I'm very grateful for.

"If we didn't look at those photos last night, we would have gone home."

"I know," I reply, willing the minutes to tick by faster. I should be packing up, but all I want is to hear Edward's voice. If he doesn't answer, I don't know what I'll do. Finishing the coffee, I can't wait any longer, so I pick up the phone and try it. It's okay. The elements haven't killed it, but I have to wait until it picks up a signal.

My hands are actually shaking when I find the word "HOME" and call. When he doesn't answer immediately, I can physically feel energy leaving me, but then he _does_ pick up.

" _Christ, Bella, are you okay?"_ He doesn't sound angry, but it's obvious he's worried.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I lost my phone!"

" _Where are you?"_

"It's a long story, truly, and I only just got it back."

" _Bella, where are you?"_

"We're camped down on White River."

" _They're down on White River,"_ he says to someone with him. _"Who is we, love?"_ Wow, it just occurred to me that I never mentioned I wasn't with Peter.

"Peter wasn't available, so I'm with someone else."

" _I already know you're not with Peter."_

"How?"

" _Because he's standin' right beside me. We're at a place called Burroughs. I gather you know it?"_

 ** _xo Thanks for reading_**


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